Breaking the Bones of a Doctor
by WOATCAPIITON
Summary: When Tempe unexpectedly collapses on the lab floor, she is immediately rushed to hospital. [AngstFluff]
1. Chapter 1

_Hi hi hi._

_I thought it was time for a new fic, and this idea came to me all but thirty minutes ago. I've done some research, so if I get a good response I'll continue. Yep. So hola to mah boi._

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story are property of Fox, Josephson Entertainment, Far Field productions and Kathy Reich.**

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Chapter One - Leaving the Ground

Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist of the Jeffersonian Medico-lab, stood over the skeleton of the recently deceased Thomas Fuller. Placing the sternum bone in the middle of the large box, she sighed, her gaze wandering over the rest of his remains. In the nine years of his life, the little boy had managed to break four of his bones. The newest break suggested a fall of some sort, most probably from falling off his skateboard, or hitting the ground after bouncing to high on the trampoline. It was sad, she thought, to think this life would never continue; he would never be able to grow into somebody, or break anymore of these bones spread before her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tempe noticed Angela leaning against the rails of the platform, silently watching her pack the bones away. Her face tightened in worry as Tempe wobbled slightly and she pushed herself off the horizontal bars when she saw her best friend grip the sides of the gurney for support.

"Sweetie..." Angela began.

Temperance looked up and smiled weakly. "I'm fine Ange, really. Vertigo."

"Sweetie you're sick. Let me take you ho-" Angela started only to be cut off.

"It's only the flu. I'll be okay." She dismissed her concerns easily.

Angela nodded, knowing it better to argue with Temperance about her well-being. She continued her watch on the doctor, noticing her pale complexion and the shaky movements her hands were making.

Brennan didn't want to admit it, but she felt like crap. She couldn't remember when she had felt this sick, maybe never. Her sight was becoming more and more blurred and black spots were appearing around the room. Her mind was trying to run through possible reasons, analysing symptoms, but she found she couldn't quite concentrate her thoughts enough to complete the task. That worried her. She also noted her temperature increasing quickly, feeling shivers sweep over her skin when she caused a breeze by moving, her body's attempt at cooling her clammy skin. She decided to stand still.

The sound of foot steps approaching assaulted the silence the two had created and they both looked up to see Agent Booth walking towards them, file in hand, poker chip jumping in the air as he tossed it about. Assuming a new case about to be presented, Brennan straighten her spine, only to have her head shoot a million pricks over her scalp, and she squeezed her eyes tight, hoping neither one of them noticed her mild dizzy spell.

"You okay Bones?" Booth asked her, seeing the slight waver in her posture. He raised his eyebrows in question to Angela, who shook her head and sighed in exasperation.

"She's sick. She won't go home!"

Booth looked at his partner again. She did look sick. "Hey Bones, maybe you should go ho---"

"No!" Temperance exclaimed, suddenly finding herself short of breath. _What's wrong with me?_

"Everyone gets sick sometimes, Bones." Booth said, receiving a glare from the anthropologist. "All I'm saying is that it's okay to take a day off once in awhile."

Temperance ignored him and forced herself to feign normalcy, clearing her dry throat before saying: "New case?"

Booth bit down on his bottom lip, eyeing her suspiciously . "Yeah, some...human remains found burried in a deserted...Bones!"

Temperance had felt a sweat break out on her forehead, probably at the same time her heart rate increased to a painful hammering in her chest. She couldn't help herself from the wave of weakness that cursed through her body and she was barely aware of Booths strong hold on her frame as her legs gave way and she fell into a black hole of darkness.

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_Y a-t-il des promenades guidées?_

_'Cause that's what I_ really_ want to know._


	2. Chapter 2

_Talofa lava! The reviews I recieved were pretty spiffy guys. Terrif job._

_But seriously, thanks guys, it really got me going and I feel completely motivated to write this second part, with all of you guys in mind. __I made sure this chapter was considerably longer than the first too._

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Chapter Two - Independently Familiar

Booth held Brennan's limp body against his. He couldn't help but wonder at how light-weight she was. She was very slim, but he had always thought her height would compensate for the lack of fat. He could even feel the delicate bones of her rib cage push through her blue lab coat. Gripping his hands tighter around her back, he marvelled at the ease in which he was able to hold her.

He could hear Angela in the background; panicking and calling out for the others. His sole attention was focused on Temperance. He gently lowered her body to the ground, taking off his suit jacket to fold for a pillow. After sliding it under her head, he allowed himself a hurried second to breathe. The second, a break for him to attempt steadying his own heart rate. Quickly, he put two fingers under her jaw to check her pulse.

"Weak and irregular…she's got a fever too." He called out worriedly to Angela, his brows creased in concern. Angela knelt down next to Brennan, her hands grasping tightly in her friends own lifeless one.

She let out a shaky breath, "It was only the flu! People don't get this sick with the flu!" She heard her own voice rising to an anguished pitch.

Booth looked down at the unconscious doctor. Her face was coated in a thin sheet of perspiration, tiny beads lining her brow. Her lips had turned to a ghostly white with a hint of blue, indicating the drop in body heat.

"A blanket! Quick!" Booth said, seeing small goosebumps appear on Brennan's previously smooth, unlined skin.

Angela rushed off to find a blanket, remembering the one in Tempe's office sprawled lazily on the couch. Meanwhile, back on the raised platform, Booth had pulled Temperance up on his lap and was holding her body close to his, figuring body heat was essential for her right now. Truth be told, he was holding her for more than one reason.

He had only ever see Brennan like this once before. The first time was one of the scariest couple of hours he would ever experience in his life time. He was so close, too close to losing his partner, the woman who had somehow managed to occupy most of the thoughts in his head, the woman who suddenly meant everything to him. He swore, swore to himself as he pulled her to him, her wrists still bound, that he would never let her fall victim to this all consuming vulnerability. The kind of vulnerability that stripped you bare, left you nothing, took away every last bit of soul you had, the helpless, scared victim of a killer. This second time around, he felt his chest constrict tighter, wounding tightly around an invisible reel. This killer was faceless and unknown.

He wasn't sure how to protect her this time.

Blanket in hand, Angela rushed back to the two figures on the floor and practically threw the blanket at Booth, hands shaking, her eyes deep with pooling masses of fear. Booth didn't waste precious seconds. Tucking the woolly blanket around Brennan, the sweet smell of her drifted up his nose, making him temporarily immobile. Images of her lovely face bombarded him.

"Booth?" Angela broke him from his reverie.

He shook his head and tilted his head towards the doors. "We have to get her to a hospital, now!"

The commotion on the platform stirred the curiosity of Zach and Hodgins, and they came scrambling up the metal stairs. In front, Hodgins stopped abruptly upon seeing Temperance draped over the arms of Booth, causing Zach to slam painfully into his back. Zach stepped back, expecting a comment from Hodgins, only to receive silence. His interest considerably piqued, he moved to stand beside him and felt his jaw drop heavily when he saw the scene before him.

"What's wrong with Dr. Brennan?" he looked towards a pale Angela, who only managed to look even more petrified.

"Booth?" Both boys turned on Booth, seeking information, seeking some kind of reassurance.

"She fainted." Was his hasty reply. He adjusted his hold on the still form by using his knee to hoist her higher up against his stomach.

He brushed past the boys and made his way quickly down the stairs, making sure to keep his arm up high enough to support the back of Brennan's head. Not once had he felt she needed him more than at this moment.

The brisk footsteps behind him announced the squints following hot on his heels, and he silently thanked them for the support their presence held for him.

Odd looks came from various workers around them, mostly ignored and uncared for by the people receiving them, their attention mostly on their boss.

The automatic doors at the entrance glided open as they approached, eight feet crossing the threshold. The warm breeze was a slap in the face for all of them; the cold inside a sharp contrast.

The black S.U.V stood imposing next to the rest of the cars in the car park; a F.B.I issued vehicle to take them to their answers. Booth motioned to Angela to open the back of the door, and she jumped in. Booth placed Tempe across the back of the seat, her head resting on Angela's lap. Booth leaned down and kissed her damp forehead softly, letting his lips say a quiet prayer against her skin. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt Angela's hand squeeze his arm, her voice hoarse."She'll be okay, Booth."

He nodded, his head lowered. "Make sure you follow close behind." He told Hodgins, Zach already seated and waiting in Jacks mini.

Booth jumped into the S.U.V and slammed the door closed. He heard a small whimper from the backseat, and he whipped around in time to hear a small mumble from Temperance. "What did she say?" He asked Angela.

She had clearly heard because she had sat back, her face full of remorse and sadness. "Angela? Angela? What did she say?" he tried again.

She looked up at him. "She said…she said…she…want's Christine..." Angela looked back down at her friend, who had faded back into weary unconsciousness.

Booth was confused. "Christine? Who's Christine?"

"Chris…..her mother." Angela's soft reply came, her hands busy brushing Brennan's hair soothingly.

Booth turned around in his seat and reached for his belt.

_Christine. _He knew who her mother was. _Then why the shock?_ It was only natural for a child to call out for its parents in times of distress, he just never saw Brennan as someone who needed that. Sure she was a grown woman for one, but she was only 29, still so young.

Maybe because it was_ Brennan._ The immensely independent woman who took care of herself. The woman buried deep beneath the walls of her self contained prison; a prison cut off from emotional feeling. This basic call for help, it was so unlike her. The one thing he could take familiarity with was the fact that she had never once complained of feeling sick, not once taking a day off to recover from a simple cold._ Yeah right, just a cold? Angela was right, admit it, something is wrong. She's really sick this time..._

He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, angry at himself for having little faith, and concentrated on getting them to the hospital. He turned the ignition key; the engine rolling over smoothly in response. In his review mirror he could see the tiny mini, a barely-there-excuse-for-a-car, following in close behind. He thanked God for his powers of an F.B.I man as he increased the pressure on the accelerate pedal, the S.U.V plummeting forward into the busy streets of Washington.

At 2:33 in the afternoon, it was in the middle of one of the most congested times of the day, and he cursed loudly when an elderly woman blindsided him and then proceeded to give him the finger. No-one could mistake _that _for a thumbs-up, well done.

He reached his hand out of the window and stuck the siren on the roof of the car, the loud ringing already deafening them. The blue and red flashes reflected off the large glass buildings as he drove by rapidly, making good time in dire circumstances. He could see the rising towers of the hospital now, the tightness in his chest lessening somewhat. His hands felt clammy and damp on the steering wheel as he pulled in sporadically in front of the doors of the entrance. His heart beat was playing the drums in tune with the steady stream of thoughts in his head.

He jammed on the breaks and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. He had parked the S.U.V on an odd angle. He couldn't help the memory of laughing at the ding he had caused by telling Temperance to park like a normal person would when she had been given a flash new sports car from her editor. Sometimes she was just so gullible. More innocent in the ways of the world than she'd care to admit.

Lifting her from the backseat, he felt the slight shaking her body was making and frowned at Angela. She bit her lip. "It started a couple of minutes ago."

He tensed his back and brought Temperance against him once again. He tried not to let her new symptom worry him too much. This was getting too serious. She was even more paler than he could of thought possible, her neck exposed as her heavy head dropped back.

With the blanket secured around her body, he ran towards the doors. They opened as he drew near, and he was careful not to whack her long legs against anything as he passed through to the interior.

"Help! We need help here!" He yelled out frantically as soon as he could manage to swallow the lump in his throat.

A dozen curious faces looked up at the scene unravelling, a couple of doctors already by his side. A nurse had pulled up a gurney instantly and he placed Brennan's body atop it, the doctors crowding around, examining their new patient. Booth brushed his hand over his face roughly, watching as they placed an oxygen mask over her face, barking out vitals and observations. Standing near doors, he saw Angela talking to a nearby nurse, her hands making gestures dramatically, explaining the events leading up to this.

He watched as they wheeled Temperance down the cold, long hallway, and out of sight.

"_Dammit!"_ he kicked the wall brutally, the people around him respectfully ignoring his outburst by looking away.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and Angela wrapped her arms around him, bringing him into a hug.

He returned it, the contact somehow reassuring him, calming his slipping composure. "Thank you" he whispered into her ear before pulling away.

"Sure"

The glass doors brought in Zach and Hodgins, both red in the face and out of breath. "What's happened?" Hodgins asked Booth.

Booth couldn't tear his gaze away from the empty hallway. In a voice full of fear, he said: "They took her away."

TBC

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___Easter Easter Easter!  
Eggs Eggs Egss Eggs!  
___

___If u wanna rah-view mah fic, u beta, push tha buh-ton thats says sub-mit, u beta push the buh-ton, click click click!_

**EDITED:** Okay, can I just take a moment to giggle at my stupidity? I just came back to re-read this chapter and realised how inconsistent I am. First I say Tempe has a fever and her heart is pumping like crazy, then I say her lips are cold and then I give her a fever and a blanket...I think it's best if we just brush those mistakes under the rug, eh. Oh, look! Birds! In the sky!


	3. Chapter 3

_This chapter is dedicated to R. You deserve a massive thank you and a massive hug. Thank you so much for the help and the motivation, your're an awesome friend, and without that encouraging push, I wouldn't achieve nearly as half as what I do._

_There's also some medical jumbo in this chapter - I'm no doctor, far from it, so if I've done some huge mistake in my research and this doesn't make at all sense, please tell me!_

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Chapter Three - Altering States

It said Dr. Temperance Brennan on the chart held in her skilled hands. She looked over at the beautiful woman laying still on the hospital bed. So young, yet so sick. It was always the worst when her patients were young. Hardly time to live and now closing in on that bright light. She sighed, life was never fair. She wondered if this woman had any relatives, anyone who cared for her. In her state, support is what will she'll be needing the most in the following months. With her stethoscope hung around her neck, the white of her coat blending easily aginst the coolness of the walls, the doctor left the room.

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"Are you here for Dr. Brennan?" The doctor asked calmly. Her voice managing to reverberate off the walls, falling on the group of anxious ears belonging to those who sat tensely on the hard hospital chairs. They all stood up instantaneously, their pleading eyes burning at the edges of her resolve she gathered between her patients room and the short distance to where she now stood in her blue scrubs. 

"What's wrong with her? Please..." Booth implored in a fraught voice that reflected his inner turmoil.

The doctor looked at him, her eyes filling with sympathy.

They all knew at once that Brennan wasn't merely sick, that this doctor promised dread with her words and pain in the truth. She looked at them each in turn, finally resting on Booth, "Have you ever heard of Endocarditis?"

They all looked blankly at her, Booths heart beating a thousand times harder. He saw Zach's hand shoot up in the air without hesitation, and they all shifted their eyes to him. The doctor looked puzzled at his "hands-up" approach, but nodded at him to speak.

He lowered his arm from the its position above his head, "Endocarditis is an infection of a heart valve or the inner lining of the endocardium." he stated in his customary rapid-fire monotone.

She looked at him with supressed bemusement, "That's correct, the---"

"Is that what Bones has?" Booth interrupted impatiently .

"I'm sorry, Bones? the doctor asked mystified.

"Temperance, he means Temperance" Angela stepped forth, shooting Booth a contemptuous glare, "Please, continue."

The doctor smiled in understanding. Sometimes the pain ran just as deep for the friends and family as it did for the patients. She had dealt with those restless, confused types of people before. Every day, for every patient. "When Temperance was brought in we weren't sure of what had caused her to become so ill. Her symptoms were so similar to a severe common cold that she would of dismissed it almost immediatly as non-threatening. However, while examining her we discovered a small cut along her arm--"

"A tree." Booth interjected.

"Excuse me?"

He raised his head, diverting his gaze from the linoneum covered floor, "A tree. She tripped over some roots and scrapped her arm on the trunk. We were doing fieldwork. Look doc, how does this relate to anything? It's a scratch, nothing more!"

"It relates to everything, Mr..."

"Agent Booth." he supplied.

"As I was saying, _Agent_ Booth, that cut is what resulted in her current condition" she explained.

"A cut? Tempe's sick because of a _cut?_" Angela exclaimed in disbelief.

"It's not so hard to believe. Most cases of Endocarditis are caused by bacterial infections. In Temperance's situation, this is what happened. The cut on her arm would have been the perfect entrance site for foreign pathogens to enter her bloodstream. Once inside her body, the bacteria was shuttled around and had ample opportunity to do damage to her body," she took a deep breath and continued, "Her fever was the most significant symptom that suggested my diagnoses was correct, so I checked her for any new heart murmors. Heart murmors occur when there is abnormal, turbulent blood flow in the heart. Unfortunately, Temperance had a murmor.

What this tells me is that the infection has led to the development of a 'leaky heart valve'. Because this was left untreated the infection has gradually damaged the endocardium and has caused the heart valve to malfunction and her blood to back up in her lungs, explaining why she was suffering from a shortness of breath." she finished.

"This is serious, isn't it?" Angela exhaled shakily, her arms wrapped protectively around her wasit.

The doctor nodded, "Temperance is very sick, I'm sorry."

Hodgins, who had so far been silently standing behind the others, spoke up, "What's the plan of treatment?"

"Well, to start with, an intensive course of anitbiotics taken intraveneously every 3 hours for at least 4 weeks. Hopefully Temperance takes to this and gets better. Her body is very weak, which explains why she's still unconscious. We're watching her extremely closely, but I warn you now, she's in serious risk of slipping into a coma if she doesn't improve soon..." she allowed her voice fall away.

"Do you know when she'll wake up?" Booth asked, dark rings already appearing under his eyes.

The doctor shook her head softly, "It depends on so many things, Agent Booth. She's young and otherwise healthy, she has a good chance. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate," she looked at Zach, "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She turned on her heel and began to walk away.

"Doctor---" Booth stopped short. They hadn't been given a name.

"Hart" she called out, her shadow walking beside her on the white walls of the corridor.

Hodgins scoffed loudly, "Of course it is."

They all looked at him, "Convenient is all" he answered with his hands up in the air.

Angela collasped on the chair behind them. The emotion in her eyes undeniably pain, she set her jaw and restrained from opeing the water gates. She was doing a good job of holding herself together, until she ruined it by bursting into tears. The men looked awkward, all exchanging looks. Taking the inititive, Booth sat down next to her and rubbed her back soothingly. Following Booths lead, Hodgins sat on her other side and proceeded to make inappropriate comments, and she choked back on a laugh. The room fell into silence.

"She's really sick." Angela said again, somehow solidifying it this time with the repeating phrase.

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_Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review!_ _Help me reach that 100 mark, and I'll make it worth your wild!_ But only if you want to. _PEER PRESSURE. Pear. Hee._

_Wild thang..._

_I finally figured out how to enable Anonymous reviews, so if you don't have an account, your excuse just hit the deck, baby!_


	4. Chapter 4

_New goal guys - As far away from 100 as possible, then we can do a ritual dance around a pepper corn tree, and I'll hand out 3D unicorn stickers, and it's gonna be great. Swear._

_Foxtrot. Uniform. Charlie. Kilo._

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Chapter Four - Abraisons of So Many Things

Booth stood stifly outside Brennans hospital door. He had been doing so for the last fifteen minutes, digging deep within himself for the courage to go in. Physically, he knew she hadn't changed, but everything else that was familiar about her had. The strong, independent Brennan was gone, replaced by a weak, lifeless shell of a woman. He wasn't sure if his composure would hold out for much longer. Seeing her would surely break him, he held onto no false hope that it wouldn't. He had no doubts in his mind that this wouldn't hurt. But he would stay. He would be there for her, no question. She was his partner, maybe in everything.

He rested his forehead against the closed door softly, his hand hovering over the door handle. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, wishing he could shut out the pass couple of hours. He never thought that Temperance could get sick, never thought it possibe. She wasn't like other people, she was strong, these things didn't happen to her, it wasn't supposed to. Her life had never been easy, each heartbreak inevitably breaking her down just a little, ensuing the walls around her heart to rise gradually higher, locking herself in that box that would keep her at arms lengnth, securing her safetly.

She didn't deserve this. _Oh god, how she didn't deserve this.._

He sucked in a huge breath and cursed his hesitation. _Pull yourself together! She needs you in there! _He exhaled through clenched teeth. Placing his hand around the handle, he turned it smoothly, the door opening with an audible squeak.

The room sat in relative darkness, all but the dimmed flourescent light above her bed. His gaze held the floor and slowly, he looked up. He swore his heart stopped beating the second he saw her. He turned his head sharply to the side, his breath hitching in the back of his throat. _Bones.._

She was hooked up to countless wires, all monitoring her current condition closely. Beneath her nose she had a oxygen tube running the lengnth of her cheek and tucking behind her ear. Her face was a ghostly white, her cheeks holding no color at all. The steady beep of the monitor to her left told him she was breathing in regular, even intervals, but anyone could see that by looking at the unfaltering rise and fall of her chest.

There was an uncomfortable looking chair next to her bed and Booth sat down on it, releasing a tremulous sigh in the process. His eyes wondered over her face, taking in every detail. He had never had this freedom to just _look _at her. It was always quick sideway glances or sneak peaks when he dared. It felt different to what he expected it would be like, to look at her with all the love exposed deep in his eyes... she needed to be looking back at him.

He entwined his fingers with hers, using his thumb to trace delicate circles on her soft skin. "Hey, Bones" he whispered to her quietly, his lips tugging into a smile, not because he was happy, but because of all the memories that came from using that endearment; _Bones. _How she had hated it when he had called her that, the look she threw at him whenever he said it. He imagined she was accustomed to it by now, he hardly ever got verbally abused for it these days. If his suspicions were correct, she had grown to be quite fond of his acquired endearment for her.

"Wake up for me, Bones." he told her, watching her closed eyes for any sign of acknowledgement. Nothing.

He continued to watch her for several more hours, until the black sheet of night slowly pulled away to allow daylight its time in the world. The nurses had been in and out of the room numerous times, checking on the patient, observing the undeniable devotion by a man who loved a woman. They never asked him to leave, mostly because he wasn't doing any harm, and mostly because he was fast asleep, his head resting on the side of the bed, two hands still entwined together unflinchingly.

It was the enthusiastic chirpping of the birds outside the window that finally woke him. His neck and back felt cramped and sore and he wondered how long he had been asleep. He started to panic slightly, thinking that Temperance had woken up during the night and he wasn't awake to reasure her. He stopped stressing when he saw she was still in the same position she had been in the night before.

She was perfectly still.

There was some color to her cheeks this morning, a beautiful contrast to her pale complextion. He brushed a stray piece of hair aside, letting his fingers trail down her cheek, falling to her neck. He leant over her bed and placed a small kiss on her forehead, "You're too stubborn for your own good, Bones."

He felt her breath brush against his cheek, "Booth?"

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_This chapter was mainly a filler. I didn't want to jump straight into the story without at least some "reflection" time from Booth. Next chapter will be more...buoyant...ahem...sorta...ah. _

_I don't wanna beat around the bush...FOXTROT! Damn that song. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Loving the love. __Thanks to beta-face._

_Also, hello shortest A/N of my entire life-force._

_God._

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Chapter Five - Relapse, My Silence Please

Booth stepped backed in surprise when he heard her voice. He felt an overwhelming surge of emotions grip his body when he saw her looking up at him with wide blue eyes. _She was awake._

Temperance looked at him, confusion spreading across her features, "Booth?" she called again, this time looking frantically around the unfamiliar room, "Booth!" her voice rose a notch.

Booth rushed back to her side in that split second he had comprehended her aroused, distressed state, "Hey, hey, Shhh it's okay, Bones" he soothed, taking her hand in his once again. Her busy eyes were taking in everything; the stark whiteness of the room, the cold bed beneath her, the harsh smell of anesthetic swirling beneath her nose. It all screamed _HOSPITAL._

She scrunched her eyebrows together, "I don't understand, Booth?" she said in a weak voice, energy already draining from her body.

He watched and allowed her to absorb her surroundings before he spoke, "Do you remember anything?"

She shook her head sideways, "Why am I here?" She tried to sit up but found her arms too weak to lift her heavy body. She had never felt so exhausted in her life. _But why?_

"You collapsed at the lab, Bones" he answered, his eyes meeting hers.

"I had the flu---"

"It's more than that," he cut in, "This isn't just the flu." he said softly, noticing the uneasy expression settling on her face.

Her lips parted to speak, but closed again when she suddenly lost the words. Booth seemingly understood her silent question, unarticulated, but present never the less, and said, "Your heart."

"My heart?" she echoed, her voice breaking ever so slightly, "What's wrong with it?"

Booth sighed and looked down. "Tempe--" he started.

The reference to her name made her head spring up. He never called her Temperance. _Never_.

Booth let go of her hand and stood, "I'll get the doctor. She'll be able to explain things better."

"No Booth! Please, don't leave me." she quickly blurted out, her intense gaze following him towards the door. She really didn't want to be alone right now. She would never admit it, but waking up in a strange hospital room had left her feeling just a little afraid.

He had his back to her, and for some reason, that made her nervous. Not seeing his face, the comfort she seemed to draw from it, had her heart pounding. "Booth..." she tried again, sinking lower into the bed.

He stopped a short distance from the door and turned, "I won't be two seconds, okay?"

She nodded hesitantly, her eyes flicking around the room "Okay."

He left the room silently, the door closing with a squeak. She tried sitting up, but again found her energy reservoir nearing empty. She examined her room. Obviously a private room, it was large and white, the sun glinting through the blinds and covering her bed in gentle tendrils of light. She hadn't realised she had been holding her breath untill she felt the pressure against her chest and she released the trapped air inside her. The hollow tube supplying her extra oxygen under her nose began to itch, and she wondered why she needed it. She lifted her arm to remove it and saw the tightly wound bandage on her arm. _But it's only a cut...why would they go to so much effort to dress a petty cut? _

It was that thought that caused her notice the wires attached everywhere on her body. Five circular electrodes were tapped around her chest, all around her heart. _My heart..._

Her heart pounded harder, sending a flood of blood into her chambers. She tried taking deep breaths to subdue her erratic pulse, but found the thoughts in her head fighting against any peace she was attempting to conjure up. _Calm down Temperance. Control!_

* * *

The nurse sat at the nurse's station filling out paperwork, while sporadically watching over the monitors for the patients on the cardiovascular ward. The vitals in room 206 were increasing dramatically. She pushed herself out of her chair quickly and called out to the other attending nurses for help before paging doctor Hart. 

Booth was on his way down the corridor when Dr. Hart appeared at the end, her feet barely touching the floor. She was jogging very quickly, and as she brushed past him she gave him a small nod and continued down the hall. He turned on his heel and followed close behind. Somehow he knew she was running for Tempe.

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_Switch on headlights. Angst is becoming._


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter Six - Suppress this Waiting Game

Booth sat waiting. He glanced down at his watch for the twentieth time that night, his legs restlessly twitching on the ground. His phone sat securely in the depth of his pocket, the last call on the screen saying he had spoken to Angela only ten minutes earlier.

He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, his palms cupping his tired head.

They had closed the door. He couldn't see in, couldn't hear a single whisper of noise drifting through the cracks in the wall.

Dr. Hart had ordered the nurses to escort him out once he had proven to be too hysterical to be in the same room as Temperance.

He didn't mean to panic like he did.

He was sure it was the shock.

They had wheeled her out shortly after that. Not one word to him about why she was being pushed down the hall, just a quick look of sympathy from a brown haired, middle aged nurse running along side Temperance's gurney. He found he had stood upon seeing the door open, his feet heavy and solid on the cold tiles.

He had been waiting for awhile now, the time on his watch no longer providing him with anything significant other than stagnant numbers on a round background. It didn't matter anyway, he could see how much time passed by the ever changing colors of the night sky outside, a deep purple with pink swirls, a fire in the sky, daybreak approaching stealthily.

Eventually his aching muscles and assiduous mind became too much for him to withstand in the lonely dead of the night, and he felt his heavy lids slowly slip down, shutting away the day's events in the sanctuary of dreamless sleep.

-

Booth sat up abruptly when he felt the tap on his shoulder. _How long was I out for?_ He wondered to himself as he sat up from his hunched position.

Dr. Hart was sitting beside him, her face strained and serious, "Agent Booth, I'm sorry we've kept you waiting."

Booth felt his body tense at her tone, "What's wrong?" he asked, despising his voice for sounding so desperately destitute.

She cleared her throat before speaking, "Temperance's condition has deteriorated considerably since last night. Originally, she was scheduled to have the heart valve replacement next week, depending on her reaction to the antibiotic treatment. As you've noticed, things didn't pan out as we had hoped."

"And?"

"...And we had to perform the surgery last night," She gave him a thin smile.

A moment of weighted silence followed her words, until she realised he was waiting for her to speak, to say something more.

"It went smoothly." she added hastily, watching the expression on his face unmistakably relax.

Booth let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Is she awake?"

"She won't be awake for awhile, at least until the meds wear off. I'll be happy to show you to her room."

He nodded, "Please."

-

It was a different room but it felt just the same. Cold, empty, desolate. He was seated in an identical chair as the one on the ward below this one, hard, uncomfortable, and worn.

Her chest was heavily bandaged, a result of open heart surgery. _Jesus, Bones..._

Without thinking, he took her hand in his, his eyes scanning over her, the porcelain coloring of her skin, the light flutter of her eye lids, the occasional word she soundlessly made, her lips moving ever so slightly.

A knock on the door shook him from his contemplative mood. Angela hovered by the door before Booth waved her in, soon followed by Hodgins and Zack. She sucked in a breath when her eyes darted over her best friend, "Oh my god, Bren..." she said in a whisper, taking in the lifeless woman on the bed.

Booth acknowledged the other two with a nod of his head. The room was shrinking, the size decreasing with each breath he took. He needed to get out. Now.

"I'll be outside." he murmured to no-one in particular, reluctantly letting go of his partner's hand.

"Booth?" Angela called out before he closed the door. He stopped, but remained with his back to the others, "Don't be long, ok?"

He dropped his head, "I won't."

The door closed with a thud.

-

She said his name before she had even opened her eyes. Their heads snapped up, surprised by the noise mixing with the still of the air. Angela was at her side in an instant, softly encouraging Temperance from her foggy sleep to regain consciousness. "Hey Bren" she said, her eyes tearing involuntarily, mentally kicking herself for not holding herself together, _Keep it together, you don't want to alarm her, do you?_

"Booth?" she wheezed, pain shooting through her chest immediately. She squeezed her closed eyes tighter, "Booth?"

"It's me, Tempe, Ange."

"Ange?" she asked, still disorientated. She opened her eyes but found the action too much for her to sustain, and the dark tendrils of sleep pulled once again at her.

-

Angela sought after Booth once she was sure Tempe was asleep and not just drifting to and from her slumber. She found him outside, sitting on a wooden bench, his dazed eyes diverted to the cloudy sky above them.

"She woke up, Booth"

He turned his head to look at her, the dark shadows lurking behind his eyes dimming somewhat, "Is she okay?"

Angela shook her head and sat, "She asked for you"

"She did?"

She allowed a moment to pass before speaking, as if she was searching for the right words to say, the right words to convey the message she so desperately needed Booth to understand. "She's always going on about what an ignorant ass you are...that you frustrate and annoy her to no ends," the quiet laughter in her voice and the gentle smile on her face told him she was only teasing, "Yet...you were the only one she called out for."

His lips twitched into a smile, "She said that, huh?"

She laughed, "Yeah, she did," she knitted her eyebrows together, "You know, she doesn't really think of you like that.."

He swallowed, "I know."

* * *

_Oooooo. I've never made it past chapter six before, so I'm starting to freak slightly!_


	7. Chapter 7

Cooool. So. Look. Chapter seven. 

Quickly now. Go read.

* * *

Chapter Seven - Like a Thorn in a Thumb

I woke up today with a headache that started behind my eyes, wrapped the length of my skull and met somewhere in the center of my forehead. It started with a throb and increased to a thump. It hurt to breathe. My mind was muddled with a million thoughts, but that was the most insistent one.

It hurt.

My chest felt tight and constricted, and I desperately needed to breathe in sweet oxygen to fill my screaming lungs. The curtains were pulled and the blinds were high above the reflecting windows. Outside there was darkness, sprinkled with the spirit of glowing stars and the bright city lights.

I glanced around my room and realized it was not the one I'd been in earlier. I racked my brain for the lost time in between, but found nothing but emptiness, eerily reminiscent of that voodoo incident in New Orleans. _What had happened? Did something go wrong? Why am I here? _These thoughts bounced around my already crowded head as I tried to figure out the "What, When, How and Why's" of my situation. I still didn't know much about...well, _anything_.

I felt movement at my side and something brush lightly over my skin. I felt foolish that I hadn't noticed I was not alone in this cold room. Through my half-closed eyes I saw Booth asleep, head bowed low and resting on the side of my bed. His hair was ruffled, betraying the duration his eyes had been closed for. His hand held adamantly to my own. It was warm, his whole hand fitting around my own small one. I felt an automatic response to pull my hand back, because that's what I've always done, pull back. I don't know why I still do this, after all, what is there to run from? What's pulling me back this time?

I didn't move my hand. Somehow, his touch soothed and reasured me in my moments of panic.

My gaze swept around the room until my eyes settled on the chart clipped to the side of my bed. I stretched my fingers for it, only to find myself a few agonizing centimetres short. I sighed in frustration. Shuffling forward I bit down hard on my lip as pain shot through my chest. Letting out a few wheezy breaths, I grabbed the chart with my one free hand.

_The moment of truth_...As my eyes scanned the page, I felt my blood run cold. _Jesus Christ_..._Why me?_ I suddenly felt suffocated, claustrophobic in this hospital room. I needed to get out, stretch my legs, get away from my sickness. I yanked my hand from Booth's and started pulling out the countless wires attached to my body. The monitors started screeching loudly when the sensitive machines were alerted to my manic and sudden actions. The noise roused Booth and he jumped up, startled. He saw what I was doing and grabbed my forearms tightly, "Stop, Bones!"

I stilled under his grip, my eyes wide, disbelief clouding my face. I felt my mouth open and close with silent words as I tried to voice my hurt and confusion.

"Booth" my voice sounded strange and pathetically weak, even to my own ears. He took one look at my face and pulled me against him. I felt his strong arms wrap themselves around me, my head tucked into the crook of his neck. In that moment I felt safe. I wanted to feel like this forever. For a second I forgot why I was in Booths arms, his smell, a mixture of soap, aftershave and Booth washing over me. I screwed my face up then, remembering why I was trembling, the hot tears behind my eyes burning their way through what was left of my composure. _Don't cry, don't cry , please, no tears..._He felt my body shake and he tightened his grip on me, our body's holding no gaps between us. There was a lump in my throat, I couldn't breathe, couldn't find the words that conveyed the pain in my chest, and it wasn't pain from the surgery.

-----

Her body trembled, and I knew she was holding back her tears. My arms tightened of their own accord, bringing us closer together. I rested my cheek against her head as I slowly rocked her, just like a mother does a baby. She was tense and her breathing laboured. We stood like that for awhile longer, until what little energy she did have started to diminish and her body was held up mostly by my strong grip.

"Temperance" I said softly into her hair. She sighed in response.

Her fingers flexed around my waist, before letting go and pulling her body back. I felt the loss instantly.

She was drained, the small act of getting out of bed leaving her weak and tired. Her eyes had a far away look, staring at something I couldn't see on the wall behind me. I placed my hand on her waist and directed her back towards her bed. She complied wordlessly, her face blank and unseeing. This worried me. Temperance was not one for denial. When she was tucked into bed, I sat beside her, on the edge of her bed. I reached my hand for hers, but she moved hers before I got to it. Feeling a slight slap on the face, I sighed and tried talking her, her expression still one of vacancy.

"C'mon, Bones, talk to me, hmmm?"

She didn't say anything, she didn't even turn her head to acknowledge my words. A moment passed, of which we sat in silence, me watching her intently, and she merely blinking. I put my finger under her chin, tilting her head to face me. She wasn't looking at me, more like looking _through_ me. "Temperance? C'mon baby, say something"

I was expecting some sort of response from her for using that endearment, but she hardly seemed to care, or notice.

I screwed up my face. "Damnit, Bones!" I knew I shouldn't of lost my temper, but it was all too much. Everything was coming to a head, and her silence only increased my frustration and the unfairness of the situation.

I got up and stood infront of the windows, my hands resting atop my head. _She would snap out of this. She would get through this. She's just in shock_. I repeated this over and over in my head, willing myself to calm down. But in all truth, Temperance retreating inside herself scared the shit out of me.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

_I know what you guys are thinking: **'SHOCK, HORROR'** and **'DEAR LORD SHE UPDATED WITHIN THE MONTH.'**_

_It's true, infact, I am nothing short of shocked myself. I walk around with this disbelieving look on my face, muttering nonsensical words about teapots. I won't say who threatened me to update (Sam, aka **ElizazFaith **aka thenaughtydingo) but I will say it has a small somethin' somethin' to do with monkeys that rape (very large somethin' somethin' to do with it) so I thought I better write or be traumatised for ever. _

_So very afraid._

* * *

Chapter Eight - Affliction, It's Unceasing

A week has passed, and nothing has changed. Or maybe everything has changed, it's so hard to tell these days. Temperance is still at the hospital and I'm still there with her.

Just when I think she's getting better and coming out of her self made sanctuary, she retreats further, and I cannot reach her. There are no smiles to fill my days, only continuous silence from the one person I need to hear speak. She lies there, day after day, not moving, not talking, not _living. _I confided in her doctor my concerns for Tempe, and she reassured me that Temperance's reaction was unusual, but it wasn't unheard of. I just can't figure out why it has happened to her.

And so I sit here, waiting. Sometimes when I'm talking, her eyes will flicker slightly, it's tiny, barely noticeable, and yet that's what keeps me going. I'll take what she gives, and hold onto hope. The squints have been great, especially Angela. She comes in nearly everyday, always positive, encouraging small smiles from me. I welcome the breather she allows me when she visits. I feel I'm no longer capable of holding myself together alone anymore. I can see why she and Bren are so close.

Although emotionally Temperance isn't coping, the nurses that check up on her every hour tell me she's really taking to the antibiotics. I find this hard to believe, especailly when I look at her pale, drawn face. To me there's no improvement.

There's a knock at the door and Angela walks in, breaking my train of thought. "How is she?" she asks, looking over at our sleeping Temperance on the bed next to me.

I sigh. "The same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that." Try as I might, I cannot stop the words that fall from my lips from sounding like they come from a deep pool of fatigue I'm drowning in.

"Hey" she starts, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "Go home. Get some rest."

"No," I shake my head, "Not yet"

She sighs, frustrated. "Go home Booth. Sleep in a real bed tonight. I won't leave her."

"Angela-"

"Booth! Go! Now!" she's pulling me up by my shirt collar, making me feel like a naughty kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I can't!" I say defiantly, shrugging her off.

She places her hands on her hips, exasperated. "And why not?"

She won't understand. "You won't understand."

Her eyes soften, "Try me"

I say it over in my head. It sounds stupid. Maybe it is stupid. Maybe I'm being stupid and irrational. "It...you know what," I say, "It doesn't matter. It's stupid."

Angela stands there, her hands still on her hips, her lips pursed. She looks like she's about to say something, but whatever she was going to say doesn't reach my ears. I'm glad she decided to drop it. Instead she simply says, "Okay."

I sit down. I'm exhausted. It's true; I haven't slept in a real bed in...

"What day is it?" I ask Angela.

"It's Sunday, Booth." She looks at me hard. "That's it, go home. I won't take no for an answer." She stands, the action suddenly making me nervous.

"But-"

"I don't care what the excuses are, Booth. You need to take a break. Get some sleep. You're no good to Brennan if you can barely keep your eyes open, better yet, know what day it is!"

She's right. I do need sleep. I need a break. I stand, my hands in front of me. "Alright, I'll go home." I finally say, somewhat resigned.

She wants to smile, but she doesn't. She's determined to get me out of there. "Good. Now go!"

I look over at Temperance one last time before I brush past Angela, who in turn gives me her most sincere smirk, as I leave the room.

* * *

The whole way home, my thoughts are of Temperance. My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and my jaw clenches when I think of why she's in the hospital. It's my fault. I put her there. It was my assignment; she wasn't even really needed in the field that day. Admit it Seeley, you had her there for your own goddamn selfish reasons, she's sick because of you... 

When I get home, I don't know what to do with myself. I wander around for a bit, finding myself in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove, the jug in my hand. I can't remember how I came to stand here though. I feel as though I'm in a daze, maybe even a dream. If it's a dream then I can wake up. Wake up and everything will be normal. I'll get up at six, have my morning shower, shave, put on a crisp new shirt, tie my tie and drive to the Jeffersonian. She will be standing there at the table, leaning over a one hundred year old skeleton, her eyes bright and alive, her skin flushed with excitement.

I'll watch her for a few moments the way I always do. She knows I'm standing there, but she ignores me for the time being, and I continue staring. She'll never know how much I love these moments.

I'm shaken out of my reverie when the jug boils, hot steam rising from within it. I put it down on the counter. I didn't even want a drink. My mind sets off on it's own again and I'm hit with a wave containing every sleepless night I've had this week, and I let the exhaustion consume me, here in my house, all alone. My mind is relaxed and a million and one thoughts overwhelm me, remind me of what's happened, and I try desperately to fathom each and every one of them.

I can't. I just can't.

I feel my legs buckle and I turn around and slide down against the cupboards. It's something behind me that's solid and I take temporary relief from its stability and strength. There's tears behind my eyes and it's all I can do to stop them falling.

Forty minutes pass, but it feels like hours. My kitchen is bathed in the early shadows that nightfall brings, dark and ominous the night promises me pain in silence. My cheeks are damp and I feel weak and foolish, embarrassed by my breakdown.

I'm just grateful no one was here to witness my downfall.

* * *

_Review, my little flower pot men!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Has anyone ever tried putting lemon on Salt & Vin chips? It's unbelievable! (Hey - At least I don't have vegemite and honey mixed together...Mother...)_

_A big pat on the head for R. for nagging on me._

_This chapter is also A LOT less dramatic, almost not gloomy! 'Cause sometimes you need a short break from angst._

* * *

Chapter Nine – A Step After Forgetting

It was the insistent beeping that roused him from his slumber. Booth groaned in his state of half sleep and turned over onto his back, his hands finding their way to his cheeks where they scratched at the stubble that had cultivated there countless days ago.

The beeping noise still ringing loudly in his ear, he reached his hand and swiped at the alarm clock, realizing after many whacks that the noise was not his alarm, but the phone.

Feeling slightly foolish, he sat up on his elbow and reached for the phone, the ringing instantly stopping.

"Hello?" He mumbled into the receiver, lying back down once again.

His room was bathed in the early morning shadows, his curtains barely containing the sunlight that threatened to pour in through the cracks.

"Seeley, this is Rebecca." His eyes popped open at her voice. _Oh Shit._

He tried to decipher her tone, was she pissed? Mad? Was something wrong?

"Uh yeah--" He started, only to be cut off.

"Where are you? You were supposed to pick Parker up an _hour _ago!"

_Pissed._

Booth mentally groaned. He had forgotten. They had arranged for him to pick Parker up at ten the last time Parker had stayed with him.

He glanced at the clock, its luminous red numbers glowing against the black background: 11:06.

_Shit._

"Look, Rebecca, something's come up--"

"Oh no you don't Booth! I have plans! I'm going away this week!" She said, her voice short and curt.

Booth sighed. He wanted to see his son, yes, but now was probably the worst time for him. He couldn't exactly expect a four-year-old kid to spend hours and hours at the hospital with him. Especially hours of _silence. _And he really wanted to be there when she snapped out of her shock.

"Rebecca--"

"See you in half an hour, Booth."

He placed the phone back on its base.

Groaning, he heaved his legs over the side of the bed, leaning down onto his knees to rest for a few minutes.

Resisting the urge to grab the phone and dial the hospital, he quickly got up and made his way to the bathroom, but not before stubbing his big toe and shooting off profanities to the offending side table that stood between him and the door way.

He sighed.

* * *

Half an hour later, Booth stood outside the modest two storied white colonial, his finger an inch away from the door bell. Letting out a long breath, he pushed it and waited. He could hear her heels on the solid wood floors, making her way down the hall to open the door. Even her steps were sharp.

He stood straighter upon the door opening, revealing an attractive blonde woman. "Seeley" she said through gritted teeth, "Nice of you to finally show up."

Ignoring her sarcasm, he simply nodded and moved his head around her, "Where's Parker?"

"BOO!" Booth feigned surprise when Parker popped out behind the door, his blonde locks swaying about his face.

Booth placed his hand on his heart and gasped, "Parker! You little monster!"

He quickly pulled his son to him and began his assault of tickles on the little boy.

"Daddy, noo!" He squealed between giggles. He looked up at Booth, his big brown eyes a mirror image of his father's.

Booth released Parker, "You ready to go big guy?"

Parker nodded enthusiastically. "Daddy can we go to the park?"

"Sure we can bub. Say goodbye to your mom." Booth answered, grabbing Parkers weekend bag by the door and turning towards the black SUV to wait.

Parker didn't need telling twice. He turned to his mother and yelled a hasty goodbye and was off in the direction of his father.

* * *

The trip to the park was passed in animated conversation as Parker relayed every event that happened to him during the week. Booth remained mostly quiet, nodding and agreeing every now and then to show his interest in what his son was saying, but never really taking in anything being said. His mind felt overloaded and he couldn't quite find the energy to engage in this conversation. Hopefully, he thought, Parker wouldn't pick up on his solemn mood and ask awkward questions. 

"Daddy?" Parker called from his car seat.

"Yes Parker?" He held his breath.

"Can we get ice cream too?" He asked, the expression on his face expectant.

Relieved, Booth replied, "Sounds like a good idea."

A pause. "Can the bone lady come too?" He asked innocently.

Booths breath caught. "You...Ah - you only met her once, why do you want her to come?" He felt his body tense up as Brennan entered the conversation.

Parker squirmed in his seat. "Please Daddy?"

"She can't, Parker." He said softly, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

"Why not? Doesn't she like ice cream?" His eyes were wide with the idea that anyone wouldn't like the rich dairy.

Booth was quiet while he thought about what to say. Should he lie and by pass all the questions he knew his son would ask if he told him she was sick, or should he tell him the truth and endure Parkers childhood curiosity?

"No, Parker, she doesn't." He mentally kicked himself for taking the easy road out.

"Oh."

Feeling the oppression start to weigh down the air in the car, Booth made a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. "Why don't we build a fort tonight, huh? Sounds like fun, what did you think?"

Parker instantly perked up. "Yeah!"

* * *

Angela opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light shining through the raised blinds at the window. She had fallen asleep the night before leaning over the side of Bren's bed, her head nestled between her arms. She sat up and stretched out the kinks in her neck and shoulders and froze when she saw Brennan awake and looking at her. 

This was the first time she had acknowledged anyone's presence in nearly a month.

* * *

_If you review I will give you all my super swell, special edition glow-in-the dark fairy stickers! And if you don't want the stickers you can have the pimple on my chin, I no longer want it. _


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey guys. _

_...Yep._

_Whoa, mind blank. I don't have anything to say. _

_Anyone ever made flubber from PVA glue? Good time right there. I added lime green food colouring to mine, then I thought it would be cool if I mixed it with my purple flubber...it went the colour of raw meat. And it's dodgy, you know, playing with something like that. It resembles...things. So now I have to stay away from making certain shapes. Way to kill, huh._

_I should really work on my A/N's..._

_TAG! YOU'RE IT...!_

* * *

Chapter Ten – Opposing Conditions

The rain lashed at the windows, a thunderous sound as it hit the glass and reverberated through the thick white walls of the hospital; making the room shake and rumble as if displeased. Beyond the window pane, the grieving gray sky shed its tears across the streets of Washington, sending fierce cold winds that made the trees tremble and the leaves tumble down from their heights.

Shivering, cold from the dreary weather outside, Angela rubbed her arms and turned her back on the sight. Moving without noise, she slowly made her way to the seat next to the bed and lowered herself down, careful of the creaks the old chair liked to announce when being sat on, and let out a victorious sigh when it took her with silence.

The room was dim; the passing daylight retreating under the heavy clouds outside, blocking any light that was left of the day. In the corner of the room sat a small lamp, the warm glow of it sending gentle tendrils of shadows to creep up the walls.

The woman lying in the narrow bed mumbled softly, a quiet look of pain etched on her face as she dreamed. She exhaled sharply, making Angela twitch in surprise, but remained still in her fitful sleep.

There was a knock against the door, and Angela glanced at Tempe quickly, watching to see if the sudden noise had stirred her. Satisfied that she was still fast asleep, she stood cautiously, aware of the danger her chair held and made her way to where the doctor stood near the door. This would be the third time Angela had seen Dr Hart since that morning, and she greeted her in a hushed whisper, subtly hinting the need to keep the volume on the d-low. Not that the doctor needed reminding.

"How is she?" The doctor asked, nodding towards Tempe.

Angela shrugged wearily. "She's been sleeping all afternoon."

"Good." She breathed out. "She needs all the rest she can get."

Angela raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that what she's been doing this past month?"

"I suspect she didn't get too much."

Angela looked worried. "So…what now?"

The doctor looked down at the clip board in her hands, consulting as she spoke. "Physically she's healing, doing quite nicely. I'm pleased with her progress. The antibiotic course is nearly over, and we'll really see how her body has recovered from the infection and the surgery. But-"

"Mentally and emotionally she isn't coping. Is that what you're going to say?" Angela cut in wanly.

Dr Hart put a reassuring hand on Angela's shoulder and gently directed her out into the hall, closing the door with a soft _puft _on their way out. Her patient was not to be disturbed. "I know this is terrifying for you, to see your friend like this-"

"Terrifying doesn't even begin to cover it. You don't know Tempe like I do, she's strong and independent, and…and she has walls for god's sake!" She took a deep breath to recover her unravelling emotions, "This…this is _not _Temperance. How could this happen? She's…she's-"

Gesturing to the seats pushed against the wall, Dr Hart sat down and Angela flopped down beside her and buried her face into her hands.

"Did you ever think that maybe those walls weren't made of steel and stone?"

"I know I'm being irrational. I'm her best friend; I know she feels more than she lets on. But still…, it's a shock to see someone break so completely and so suddenly. It feels like this past month has been temporarily suspended above my head and now…"

"It's crumbling down around you?"

"Yeah" Angela answered softly, "Like that. I'm not sure how I should feel."

"That's understandable, but his could be good for her, Miss Montenegro."

Angela looked at her wistfully. "I hope so._ God_, I hope so."

Dr Hart stood immediately upon the beeping of her pager. "If she's as strong minded as you say she is, then don't think she'll give the fight up now." She smiled. "I'll be by in the morning." She said a quick goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

Angela sighed heavily, thoughtful about the conversation she just had with Dr Hart.

Still lost in thought when her cell phone shrilled against her hip, she jumped slightly and glanced down at her watch, then at the cell, knowing the caller without the ID blaring at her on the screen. She took her time unclipping the phone from her belt, not because she's deliberately prolonging the pick up time, but because she knows the caller won't hang up anytime soon and her hands were numb from constantly wringing them with worry.

"Hello?"

"Angela! Why did it take so long to pick up? Is everything okay? Is Bones awake? What happened? Something happen? What did the doctors say?" The questions bombard Angela and she's left momentarily speechless.

"Angela!"

Finding her tongue, she finally speaks. "I'm here. No, she's fine, still sleeping."

He'd been calling every hour on the hour – unfailingly constant. Angela knew he was kicking himself for leaving her and not being there when she 'woke', but she was adamant that he stay at home. It was his turn to have Parker; she had told him that morning, dragging him down here wouldn't be fair. Besides, Tempe would be sleeping most of the day, so it would be as uneventful as watching hair grow.

"Oh," he breathed out with obvious relief, "That's good."

"It's good." Angela agrees.

"Is it?"

"It's good, Booth."

"Right. It's good."

"Great." Angela adds in, just to mix it up a bit.

There's silence following her comment, and an awkward awareness settles between the phone lines. "So…you're going to stay with her tonight?" He asks her, though he already knows she is. He asked her last time he called.

She nodded, though he couldn't see her. "She'll need someone here when she wakes up."

"I'll be there in the morning, after I drop Parker off." Booth reminds Angela…again.

"I'll tell her when she wakes."

"Thanks, Angela." It's quiet again, and for a while all that is exchanged are a few sighs. "You're a good friend, you know. Bones is lucky to have you." She's slightly surprised by his words, seemingly out of nowhere, and a blush rises in her cheeks despite herself, "You too, Booth."

The sound of Parker yelling in the background grew louder, and she tells him she'll see him in the morning. He says his goodbyes, but not before she knows exactly what time he'll be there the following day and Angela is left with a smile tugging at her lips.

* * *

Booth sat as reclined as he could on the comfortable beige couch, one arm draped over the back of it, the other stroking his son's hair. Parker lay slumped over his lap, a toy truck hanging loosely in his hand, teetering dangerously close to the ground. In the background the TV flickered in bright colours, sending shadows to simultaneously hit the walls while the screen glowed with phosphorescent delight. Beside him, the phone sat silently. He tried to direct his focus on the movie, but his eyes kept wondering over to the phone, and the urge to call Angela again prickled in his hands. Dragging his eyes away from the phone, he stared at the TV until his eyes watered and he was forced to blink. The last call he had made was twenty minutes ago, and he knew he was bordering on absurdity. _Angela must think I'm absolutely mad. _He checked his watch, a habit he had recently developed since that morning. He looked at the clock on the wall. Strangely, it read the same time. He rolled his eyes at himself, but this moment of silly thinking felt good. He smiled. He hadn't been able to do that for so long without guilt creeping over his shoulder and hissing in his ear. 

Booth gently slid his arms under Parkers sleeping body and lifted him easily. The journey down the hall was short and he soon found himself in his son's room. He leant down and with practised ease tugged at the covers before lowering Parker into bed. He tucked him in and with a kiss on the forehead, said goodnight.

His bed was cold when he slipped his weary body into it. The sheets felt itchy and the blankets too heavy. The air was too cold, and his lungs complained. His eyes were beginning to feel grainy and his temples throbbed. He was desperate to be somewhere else.

* * *

Angela entered the darkened room. After the phone call with Booth, she had sauntered down to the Cafeteria, killing time while Tempe slept and night crept slowly over them. The room was large, bland and bright. The ceiling seemed to swarm with fluorescent lighting, hurting her eyes as she sat alone by the fogged up windows. Meant to expel the bleak atmosphere of the floors above, the frugal attempt at cheeriness just made her shoulders slump further. She ate an early dinner of soggy salad with a flat can of Diet Coke and watched the gloom grow outside for over an hour, lost in thought. When the wind yelled against the glass, she shook her head and stood, the cafeteria housing only a few people now. 

Closing the door behind her and walking towards Tempe's bed, feeling goose bumps cover her skin, she realised the room felt cooler, crisper than it had when she left it over an hour ago, and she pulled and adjusted the blankets around Tempe, still asleep and curled up on her side. The stars, shrouded by the thick blanket of night and fog were unable to illuminate the sky and darkness loomed in every crease and crevice of the city.

Standing beside Tempe's bed, Angela took a moment to properly _look_ at her friend. She was pale, her skin anaemic without the flush of colouring. The labyrinth of tiny blue veins around her temples and on her eyelids made her look fragile and Angela was disarmed at how those veins could symbolise her current state so precisely. _Delicate. A delicate state of mind. A delicate form of body. _She let the words roll around in her mind before tossing them away in the imaginary bin her brain had conjured up. _Tempe is strong. _She repeated in her head. _She is._

Angela brushed her hand softly down the side of Tempe's cheek, before she hastily retreated her hand back, convinced she'd bruise the chalky skin of the woman, as if one could be bruised so easily and by a gentle hand of a friend. Her eyes flickered over Temperance's features, taking in the dark shadows beneath her eyes, a stark contrast against the parlour of her skin. Down, down to the concaved slant of her cheekbones, down to the sunken cheeks and the sharp line of her jaw. She stopped, seeing clearly in her mind the bruising on the inside of Tempe's elbow, the exceedingly thin limbs tangled beneath the blankets…

She wanted to stop thinking; didn't want to see her best friend like this.

"Oh, Tempe. Tempe…" Angela murmured, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen astray over Bren's face. She shifted, the contact confusing her in her sleep, her eyebrows brought together in a crease of thought. She slept on.

Angela bent over and kissed her forehead ever so softly, moving to lie on the bed on the other side of the room. She hated hospitals. Especially their beds. Wiggling and moving her body around to get comfortable, she tried not to think of the anaesthetic smell clinging to the cotton blankets or the way the sheets crackled under her fuss and focused her attention on how hard the damn pillows were and just how blessed they were that Temperance was slowly climbing back up. The stone had chipped and the steel had corroded, and now…Tempe needed her; needed her friends if repairs were to be made. She wondered how Booth was sleeping and what tomorrow morning would bring, and before she knew it she was succumbing to the alluring waves of slumber.

* * *

_Can you just feel the fluff that's rolling our way?_

_I've run out of all those fancy stickers, got no pimples to offer, and I am all out of teapots. So I will have to bribe you with rolls of toilet paper, because my mom is buying them like no one else can._

_And no, you cannot layby a baby._

_What do I look like? A service?_

_... Pre-Order is avaliable..._


	11. Chapter 11

_Well lookie here, a new chapter! And Tempe's actually awake this time! What a BONUS. _

_Thanks to R. - the ultimate Beta.  
Love goes out to BonesDBchippie, because she's so damn cultured. Grinnytime._

_Enjoy._

* * *

Chapter Eleven – Building New Castles

The next day dawned exactly as Booth thought it would. The storm that had raged throughout the night had ceased and all that remained of its activities were the cool droplets that hung heavily on the leaves and the patches of water on the concrete that hadn't quite dried at the still early hour. The air felt crisp and clean, and Booth inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the newness of it all.

"Look Daddy, a worm!" Parker exclaimed excitedly as he pointed to a stranded brown slug on the pavement. He ran to it and bent down, examining it with youthful exuberance.

A slight breeze tugged at Booth's hair as he walked towards the white colonial, the sunlight warming it enough that Booth wore his black t-shirt without his bare skin being chilled. He grinned when Parker picked the worm up between his fingers, the gentleness that came with age missing as he accidentally squished the worm in his curious hands. His brown eyes widened and Booth laughed when he squealed. "Cool!"

Booth halted his laughter when he noticed Rebecca standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, watching the scene with nothing more than disapproval and disgust on her face. Booth shrugged impishly and pointed to Parker. "Boys!"

Parker stood and turned towards his mother, "Look mom, you can see its guts and _everything! _Isn't it neat?"

Grossed out, Rebecca cringed and said, "Ah-"

Booth laughed and said to Parker, "Girls!"

"Ew girls!" Parker said, crinkling his nose up and discarding the dead worm on the grass. He peered down at his hands, covered in worm goo.

"Agh, gross." Rebecca mumbled. "Sweetie go wash your hands."

Parker ran off into the house, leaving the two adults alone. Booth looked down uncomfortably, the buffer between them gone.

"I hope he behaved himself. He's been so restless lately." She said, making idle conversation.

"He did."

Silence.

"Seeley?"

"Yeah?" Booth said, looking up.

"Are you okay?" She asked, accepting Parker's weekend bag when he passed it to her.

Booth forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Rebecca didn't buy it. "You're lying."

Booth sighed. He hadn't told Rebecca about Tempe. He wasn't really sure why, he kept quiet about it, and it was easy to stay quiet about it when the subject never came up. And besides, it wasn't her business to know, it wasn't his to tell.

"I'll pick Parker up same time in two weeks," he said gruffly before he turned his back on the house and walked down the path leading to his SUV parked at the curb. He heard the door shut behind him, and released a sigh of relief that she hadn't pestered him into opening up.

He got into his black FBI-issued vehicle and pulled away from the house. The drive to the hospital wouldn't take long, even at this time of the morning. It was a Sunday after all, and people liked to sleep in on Sundays. He slowed when the lights turned orange and stopped altogether when it changed to red. His palms were sweaty and he was tapping his hands restlessly against the wheel. He felt nervous and that unsettled him. He had seen Tempe nearly everyday for the past month, why should he be nervous?

The turnoff for the hospital entrance was on his left and he rolled the wheel between his hands in one fluid motion and found his way knowledgably around the car park for "his" spot. It was conveniently unoccupied so he slid into the small lot and killed the engine. He was desperate to see Temperance but fear clutched tightly at his limbs and he sat there for nearly ten minutes, building the courage up from nothing. _Fear of what?_

Berating himself for his silliness, he climbed out of the SUV and with one click, locked it securely. He pretty much knew the route to her room, and he was confident he could find his way to her with his eyes closed. The floors were shiny and his shadow danced along with him as he made his way to the dull gray elevators. St Vincent's Memorial, made up of several historical buildings along Reilly Street was large and noisy, bustling with people in the corridors, nurses peeping in on patients and exhausted doctors running back and forth from ward to ward. The elevator dinged and Booth stepped into it, nodding in a friendly manner to medical personnel he had seen frequently in the past month. He pressed the button with a worn "12" on it and rocked on his heels as the elevator ascended.

His reflection caught on the chrome doors and he was surprised to see how tired he looked. He had slept mildly well the night before, but his exhaustion was not from hours of lost sleep, it was the overload of stress that was doing him in.

Another "ding" and the doors opened, revealing the twelfth floor. _How was it that every floor looked exactly the same? _He inwardly wondered.

He spotted Angela down the hall, resting her back against the wall. She turned her head to the side and saw him, smiling as she raised her hand. She didn't look too worried and he relaxed his tense muscles. "Hey," he said when he reached her, "Why are you standing outside?"

"Gen is removing her stiches." She answered, sitting down. "It's been awhile."

Booth frowned. "You don't think anything is wrong, do you?"

Angela waved her hand at him and he sat down next to her. "I don't know. How long does it usually take to remove stiches?"

He shrugged, his eyes watching her closed door for movement. "Has she…you know…"

"Talked?"

He nodded. "Some. Not much. Her throat hurts." She replied honestly. "Booth," she started seriously, "Don't expect too much too soon."

"I know, Angela. I'll be nice." He gave her a cheeky smile and she laughed.

"You're a lost cause, Booth."

"Gee, thanks."

The door opened and both of them sprang to their feet. Nurse Genevieve Matheson slipped out of the room and gave them broad smiles. "Why, hello you two!"

Genevieve Matheson, Booth could honestly say, was one of the nicest people he had ever met. She was soft-spoken, courteous, and liked by everyone, employees and patients alike. She was petite, standing at no more than five feet, two inches, with an appealing face and a lovely smile. Her eyes were brown, and deep warmth seemed to radiate out of them, pulling people in with her motherly presence. Her shoulder length hair was clipped back, and the silvery strands betrayed her fifty-two years. From the very start they learnt that she was not one to be messed with, and arguing with her would leave you nothing short of exhausted. Her thoughtful nature and cheery attitude kept their spirits up and Angela and Booth took to her immediately. A couple of hours after meeting her, they were addressing her by her given name.

"Everything okay with the stiches?" Booth asked, gesturing to his chest.

"Oh, fine, fine!" Gen said, waving off his concerns. "Closed up just perfect."

"Well let's go in then," Angela said, walking towards the door. She stopped when Booth hung back, looking at him with a frown. "Booth? You coming?"

"Course," he answered, moving to stand beside her. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Deep breaths, he told himself, sucking in pockets of air.

Angela opened the door, shoving it as she burst into the room with excitement. Tempe looked up, startled. "Sweetie! Booth's here!"

"Hey Bones," he said, smiling nervously at her. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, his shoulders hunched over. She looked at him, mumbled a quiet 'Hi' and turned her gaze away. By the look on his face, Angela could see he was hurt.

"How's your throat?" she asked Tempe, wondering why her friend had dismissed Booth like that.

Tempe shrugged and looked out the window. Angela twisted her body from her seat on the end of Tempe's bed and regarded Booth. "Hey Booth, could you give us a minute?" She raised her eyebrows, and he took the hint.

"Ah, yeah, sure…I'll be outside…" he said, retreating even as he spoke.

When the door had shut behind him, Angela turned her eyes on Tempe. "Okay, what was that about?"

Tempe had her head down, a curtain of hair concealing her face. They sat in silence, waiting for Tempe to answer. When she didn't, Angela stood up with a dramatic sigh.

"Sweetie spill."

Tempe looked up with a confused expression. "Spill what?" she croaked out.

Angela grimaced at her friend's voice. It sounded rough and husky, and she knew it hurt to strain it. "You barely looked at Booth. I thought you were looking forward to seeing him-"

"I was…am."

Angela folded her hands beneath her breasts. "Then what? What's with the cold shoulder?"

Tempe chewed on her lip thoughtfully. She didn't mean to brush Booth off. She was…embarrassed.

Angela could practically see the clogs turning in Tempe's mind. Her face was set in a frown, her mouth a grim line. "He doesn't think any less of you. Don't ever think that."

Tempe snapped her head up. It was almost as if Angela had read her mind, it was nearly verbatim to what she was thinking.

"I don't know what to think anymore," she sighed, looking at Angela with such devastation in her eyes that Angela went to her immediately and wrapped her arms around her, careful of her healing sternum. Tempe returned the hug, needing the comfort only physical contact brought. "God, Ange. What's happened to me?"

"Nothing has happened to you. You're only human; you couldn't go on like you were forever."

"But it's how I-"

"Cope." Angela finished, loosening her arms around Tempe to lean back so she could see her face.

"I don't know how to handle this. I feel…vulnerable." She screwed her face up, "I hate that. I feel fifteen all over again."

"But you're not, and you aren't alone this time. You have me, and you have your brother. Sweetie, you have Booth. That man will do anything for you. Let him in. He's not about to judge you. He already _knows _you."

She was quiet while she contemplated Angela's words. Tempe gave her a half smile and squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Ange."

Angela winked. "Anytime. Now, how about we let Booth in?" She stood and opened the door. A few words were exchanged around the door, and Tempe couldn't hear what was being said. Three seconds later Booth entered, and Angela suddenly remembered a "phone call" she needed to make.

Booth shuffled forward, looking awkward and Tempe looked up at him curiously. "You're nervous."

He chuckled. Only Tempe could be so blunt. "A little." He admitted.

He hesitated by the door, and she watched him slowly drift over. He reached her bed, his hands tucked into his pockets just like earlier. He wanted to reach out and touch her, take her hand in his and feel her soft skin like he did whenever he sat with her, but she was barely lucid, and alarming her was the last thing he wanted to do.

Her own hands were fiddling with the edge of the blanket, picking at the frayed edge. "How do you feel?" he asked, taking in her appearance. Her bed was raised so she could sit up, white pillows fluffed up behind her. Her hair was tousled, but not messy, and her cheeks held some colour. Her eyes, still dull, held some life at least. Her voice was scratchy though, and he worried. She sounded like she was damaged. And inside, she no doubt was.

She smiled wryly. "I've noticed that's the first thing people say to you when you're in a hospital."

"Well, it's a good ice-breaker." He pointed out. He sat down next to her, and the chair squeaked audibly. He cringed. She smiled. "I should have known. That chair has had it in for me for ages."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're having a feud with a chair?"

He nodded seriously. "This is no ordinary chair, Bones."

A smile tugged at her lips and it quickly turned into a grimace. Her face contorted and she bit down on her lip.

Panic gnawed at him and he moved to the edge of her bed. "Bones?"

"It's okay, Booth." She relaxed, her face smoothing out, the ache in her chest subsiding. His forehead creased together, creating a small valley between his eyebrows. "Bones-"

"Dr Hart knows. She said it's normal when your breastbone is broken and your heart played with." She joked, easing the lines on his face. "It's okay," She repeated, "The pain is bearable."

His face looked strained and she reached for his hand that dangled by his side. He nearly jumped when he felt her hand grab his, but he quickly recovered his composure and stared down at their entwined hands. "I've missed you, Bones." He said quietly, and he felt her grip tighten.

"I'm sorry, Booth." Tempe whispered, shame evident in her voice.

Surprised, Booth asked: "For what?"

She brushed her thumb gently across his hand, watching the hair stand up as she made contact with his skin. She swallowed hard. "I feel like I've…like I've let you down." She raised her head, her eyes glassy. "Have I?"

Booth put his free hand on her calf, squeezing gently. "No. Impossible." He let a slow smile cross his face and she watched his lips curve up at the corners. Her gaze crept up his face till she reached his eyes, locking her gaze with his. "Don't go anywhere soon…mmmkay?"

"I won't."

He smiled. "Good, because you're coming home with me."

* * *

_Booth taking Tempe home? Oh ,yes please, I'll take that! (retreats from gutter)_

_Can you BELIEVE how short my A/N's are this chapter? It's rather horrendous. You may scold me in your review. (rarr - like that.)_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Hola Riles! (Quota not reached...ever!)**_

_Exams are over! (Celebrates with loud noises and wild footwork) Yusss._

_A very long chapter awaits you, my darlings. I'm kind of worried it's too long - I know some people are put off with lengthy chapters, so tell me if this irked you in anyway._

_Some quick shout-outs:_

_DeamonFruba__ - The satisfaction of your cat is of the utmost importance to me, and I hope she/he likes this new chapter._

_BonesDBchippie__ - You are just to cute, and brimming with energy._

_azarathangel__ - I ran for my life like you told me to, but stopped when I remembered I really, really like cookies and a showering of Booths - Well I'd happily lay down while he showered down on me. (Dear lord, oh my.) (Grins)_

_FanFicCrazy - Your review just made me smile and smile and smile! Your enthusiasm is so great - really got me in the mood to write. Our minds seem to drift along the same lines - you might just see that little scenario!_

_Ellie 5192__ - Can I adopt you? (SoSeriousRightNow) I much prefer Marmite though. But the ad just kills me.  
_

_To all my reviewers: You guys are just the **BEE'S KNEES**! I seriously want to have your children._

_Please note I am not a doctor, nor do I have any medical training. The information herein is from research off the internet, second-hand knowledge from friends, and me making up stuff. I'm not acqainted with hospital protocol, so excuse any errors I do make. In this chapter Booth signs the release papers, but only the patient can do that, but it works for my story, so shhhhhsh!_

_Okay, go ahead and read now._

* * *

Chapter Twelve – And the Princess Waits Within

Pressing her ear to the door, Angela strained to hear any sound that might reveal more than the pockets of silence in the empty corridor. Hearing nothing, and sensing Tempe to be asleep, she gave a few hesitant knocks just in case before nudging the door open. Bathed in early morning sunlight, the room and the woman occupying it were only just beginning to stir.

Roused from the squeak of the door, Temperance rolled herself tentatively onto her back, automatically raising her hand to her chest when a wave of pain swept over her healing sternum. She let out a small moan and her eyelids fluttered open. Feeling slightly groggy from sleep and pain medication, she waited a couple of seconds for her eyes to focus and her mind to clear.

"Morning!" Angela smiled warmly, moving to stand beside her. Temperance turned her head slowly at the sound of her best-friends voice, squinting her eyes when they made contact with the glare bouncing off the windows. "How's the pain?"

Tempe blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light. "Painsfine." She lied, her words slurring. She cleared her throat. "Fine."

Angela narrowed her eyes. "You sure?" Nodding in reply, Temperance gripped the sides of the mattress and used her legs for leverage when she hoisted herself into a sitting position. She tried not to grimace as she applied pressure to her middle. "I passed Booth down in the lobby. He'll be back later." Angela rambled, her friend's obvious discomfort not going unnoticed.

Trying to regulate her breathing from the exertion of sitting up, Tempe exhaled a ragged breath, and managed an 'uh-huh' in acknowledgement.

"Here, sweetie." Angela said, getting up and pressing a button near the bed to elevate the frame so sitting wouldn't be such a struggle.

Tempe gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Ange." Plopping herself on the edge of her bed, Angela quirked her lips into a devilish smile.

"Sooo…excited about going home?"

Temperance rolled her eyes. "This is one of your many poorly disguised machinations to get me and Booth together, isn't it?"

Angela feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Not saying anything, Tempe tilted her head to the side and waited. She looked pointedly at Angela, raising her eyebrows at the clock on the wall for emphasis. Angela chewed on her lower lip, and then sighed loudly, giving in. "Okay, alright…when we spoke to Dr Hart a couple of weeks ago, she said you'll be able to go home soon…" she let her voice drift off.

"And?" Tempe urged her on impatiently.

"And…well, me and Booth discussed it. It makes more sense if he looked after you while you recovered."

"I don't need to be looked after." Tempe snapped, irritated because she knew she couldn't, and wouldn't be able to do this alone.

"Sweetie…" Angela tried to sympathise, "I know your independence is threatened right now, but, well…you have to get over that." She looked nervously at Bren.

Tempe's eyes strayed to the ceiling and she released a shuddering breath.

"Dr Hart wanted to keep you here longer…" Angela pursed her lips, seriousness taking hold of the conversation, "she wanted you to you talk to someone about what happened."

"No." Tempe said sternly, shaking her head adamantly.

Angela got up and leant against the windowsill. "I know. I told her you wouldn't. The only reason she's letting you go home is because you aren't a danger to yourself physically…otherwise…" She sighed. "Look Tempe…" She paused, "…promise me you won't bottle this up. At least talk to Booth about it, okay?"

Tempe drew her eyebrows together and looked down, effectively shielding her eyes from her know-all best-friend.

"Tempe, promise me." Angela begged, her mouth a grim line on her face.

Bren shuffled her body beneath the thin hospital blankets. "I'll…try." She mumbled, equivocating.

"That's not a promise." Angela remarked, annoyed with Tempe's evasiveness.

"Promises are easily broken," She chided Angela, "And I won't be the one breaking them."

Angela clicked her tongue angrily. "Then don't."

"I said I'll try." Tempe said, raising her voice while her hand gripped at the sheets, causing a fine web of crinkles to appear.

"No! It's going happen again. You're going to snap, and-and then what?" Angela's desperate voice shrilled, her chest swelling with fear.

"Angela…please, just stop." Glassy blue eyes pleaded with hers. Angela pinched her lips together. Deciding that she could not risk pushing her friend any further, Angela dropped it. Defeated and weary, she turned her back in time to witness the first storm cloud gather in the greying sky. "Fine." She murmured, her voice strained. There would be thunder and rain, she knew.

"I'm sorry, Ange." Tempe said sadly, the dejected expression on her face making her look even more feeble.

"I don't want to lose you again." Angela whispered, her body visibly slumping.

"You won't."

"I think…I've lost already." She sighed.

"Ange-"

"Let Booth help. Please, just…please."

Temperance could think of nothing to say that would reassure the women she was closest to, yet so unfamiliar with. She could not pledge herself to a promise she was uncertain she'd be able to keep or commit herself to. She said she'd try, and she would, but she needed time to do so, and maybe that was something Angela just didn't understand. She worked methodically, and while she mended herself, she wanted to do it in her own time, by her own hands.

She sighed.

It was true; she reluctantly admitted to herself, that Booth had managed to weasel his way into all aspects of her life. If anyone was to help it would be him. That much Angela was right about. Slowly, he had learnt to read her; the cryptic and jumbled thoughts in her mind, the inner turmoil that twirled inside her till she was dizzy and exhausted…the anguish she managed to hide so well from everyone except him. For all the things he took the time to understand about her, she appreciated it more than he'd ever know. How was it that he knew the exact time when she need the emotional comfort, placing his hand on her shoulder or wrapping her in one of his 'guy hugs'? Was she _that _transparent to him?

It frightened her, the connection they had cultivated between them. He was a threat to her, because, just maybe, he'd be the one to shatter the cold blocks of confinement she'd built around herself. Booth never made promises because he knew the fragility of it. He understood her apprehension. A promise is a commitment destined to be broken. She learnt that many years ago. The lesson was well and truly instilled in her.

* * *

It was well after mid-day when Booth made an appearance. He cautiously slipped his head around the door and entered with hushed footsteps when he saw Angela place her finger to her lips. Temperance had her head to the side; two pillows barricading her body on either side, effectively reducing any movement she happened to make during sleep. 

"How is she?" Booth asked, seating himself next to Angela, who raised her eyebrows skyward.

"She was kind of grumpy earlier. I think she's just tired though." Booth nodded, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she slept. With the removal of her stiches and the bulky bandages, the area was noticeably flatter.

"Is her apartment ready?" Angela asked, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

"Yep. Dropped my stuff off after I left this morning. Stocked the fridge too."

Angela grinned. "Anything mouldy?"

Booth smirked. "Month-old blue-vein cheese." He cocked his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "At least…I think it was cheese."

Angela snorted with laughter and then made an attempt to smother it when Tempe shifted in her sleep. Whispering, she said: "Cullen still okay with the time off? I mean…it is a long time."

Booth's eyes wandered over to rest softly on Temperance. "He understands." He said simply. They were both quiet while they remembered the recent loss of Amy, the Deputy Director's only daughter.

With his attention directed purely on the woman lying on the narrow bed in front of him, Booth was oblivious when Dr Hart stepped into the room. Angela stood upon seeing her at the doorway, the doctor's head nodding for them to converse out in the corridor. Patting Booth on the shoulder, Angela exited the room while Booth moved stealthily behind her.

"Right, I know we've been over this already, but I want to make sure the information is well set." Dr Hart instantly began her care guide for her patient once they were all standing on the cold tiles outside Tempe's room.

Booth and Angela stood straighter, listening to her intently.

"Temperance is still very weak and susceptible to possible relapse infections. Keep her away from driving, cooking, cleaning, lifting, any exercise – including sex," She eyed Booth speculatively. Angela suppressed a grin, and felt her lips twitch when she watched a crimson blush sweep over Booth's cheeks.

Dr Hart continued, "Warning signs to look out for: low blood pressure; check three to four times a day the first week. Listen closely for any wheezing or difficulty breathing – this could be indicative of fluid filling around the area of her heart, which will need immediate draining. Don't throw caution to the wind on this; make sure you get her here as fast as possible. I'm setting Temperance on an antibiotic course that she needs to take three times a day for thirty days." She tapped a pen to her chin, thinking.

"And fevers?" Booth inquired.

"Oh yes! Check her temperature regularly; any fever may indicate an infection returning."

Angela felt Booth tense next to her. "What are the chances of that?"

"It could happen, Agent Booth, and that's enough to make me worry."

"And food?" Angela asked curiously.

"No heavy food. Keep it light, and relatively easy. Her diet was thrown off a couple of weeks ago when we had to feed her through an IV, so her stomach won't be able to handle much."

They both nodded solemnly. Dr Hart smiled kindly, aware of the taxing task laid out before them.

"You'll need to be patient with her – the first couple of weeks she'll be mostly sleeping. Just remember, she's still recovering from open-heart surgery, anyone would be exhausted." She took a breath. "Naps should last no more than three to five hours, any longer and she won't sleep through the night. Which also reminds me – check on her during the night. Nothing serious, just listen to her breathing and make sure she's got pillows cushioning her. Moving in her sleep might wake her up and her sternum needs to set correctly."

"Maybe I should be taking notes." Booth said, his memory brimming with medical information. "I don't want to forget anything."

Dr Hart smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry; most of it is plain common sense. Just watch her closely for changes, and trust your instincts if you feel something is wrong."

"Oh, Booth has great instincts." Angela gushed ardently, her tone teasing. Booth shot a glare sideways at her and stepped closer to her side. Their bodies screened his hand when he poked her in the ribs. "Hmmph." She grumbled in surprise before jabbing right back.

Unaware of their elbow war, Dr Hart waved them over to the main desk for Booth to sign the release papers. "She's all yours." She stated casually when Booth signed on the dotted line. Angela grinned.

"Not a word." Booth warned her playfully.

"Yeah, yeah." Angela rolled her eyes, already on her way back to Temperance's room.

* * *

They found her awake and sitting up when they returned to the room. Her gaze was glued to the setting sun beyond the window panes, the lazy reds and oranges setting the sky on fire. 

"You're a free woman." Angela announced happily, perching herself on the end of the bed. Tempe gave her a small smile, and looked over at Booth, stifling a yawn.

"Still tired?" He asked, his hands buried in the depths of his pockets. Tempe shook her head in the negative, "Fine." She lied the second time that day.

"Whenever you're ready." He said, rocking back on his heels.

"I just need to get dressed."

"Sweetie…" Angela began, eyeing her chest. "Can I see your scar?"

Tempe's eyes widened. "What? No! Why?" She sputtered.

"Why not? I've seen you naked before." She reasoned, scooting closer.

Booth gaped. "You have?"

"Nothing kinky, Booth." Angela admonished, leaning over her friend's chest. "So…can I?"

Temperance rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling while Angela pulled the collar of the gown back enough for her to peek inside. "Hmmmm…it's not as big as I initially thought, sweetie." She observed.

Tempe darted her gaze to watch Booth. Conflicting thoughts were apparent on his face as he looked on with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. The sight of Angela peering down his partner's gown was not an everyday occurrence.

"Hmmmm" Angela said, her eyes roaming.

"What?"

"You've lost a lot of weight, Bren. And your boobs are definitely smaller." Angela noted blatantly.

Booth coughed.

"Thanks, Ange." Tempe replied dryly.

Angela huffed. "They're still bigger than mine!"

Booth grasped his hands together with an audible clap. "Okay. Alright then. Whoa, okay. How about you get ready so we can leave?" Booth said loudly, leaving the room abruptly.

A roguish smile tugged at Angela's lips. "Was it something I said?"

* * *

_Next chapter: HOME TIME!_


	13. Chapter 13

_The reviews I recieved last chapter were outstanding; I was honestly blown away. Just incredible. You guys are sooo nice and supportive. Really makes me want to continue and try even harder to up my standard. And the suggestions were awesome too._

_sikeslittlebaby__ - You asked me how to disable the PM feature, but of course I couldn't tell you because, well, it's disabled! _

_pupdawg66__ - The spectacular length of your review was love. And your suggestions rocked too. You're like my crazy twin. (Go Profiles!)_

_I'm pleased I haven't gone OOC with Angela, Booth and Brennan, and it's so FANTASTIC to see all the new readers jumping aboard this fic._

_I also have to send out big sloppy kisses to my Beta, because her job today was hilarous and very well done, and I'd trust no one else to do it._

_Also waves and love to my new Asian-turned Canadian pal. You know who you are. _

* * *

Chapter Thirteen – Reviewing Broken Shells

Temperance gripped the edge of the bed, her fingernails digging into the sheets as her legs trembled and her stance faltered. She inhaled sharply, alarmed as the weight of her body plunged down to her feet, the descent causing her to lose her balance completely. Her free arm swiped at empty air as she moved almost in slow motion before making contact with the cold tile floor, a sicking crack reverberating off the walls as Angela turned in time to see Temperance land heavily on her arm.

Her eyes widening as realisation hit, Angela rushed forward, dropping to her knees, "Oh my god, Brennan!" She panicked; touching Tempe's head, her shoulder, down her ribs, screaming out for help while her friend tried to catch a breath to send down to her shocked lungs.

Temperance wheezed, her blue eyes huge. "My-my…" She struggled harder to get oxygen into her frail body. She gasped, "Ange-"

Angela was on the verge of tears when two nurses and a doctor burst in, their eyes quickly taking in the scene, evaluating possible damage done. Zeroing in on Temperance, they moved to her with experience, hands fumbling over skin, assessing the broken woman on the floor.

Angela pushed herself harder against the wall, creating more space for the medical personnel to move around her best friend. She looked on helplessly, guilt twisting sharply in her gut. _Tempe shouldn't have been standing by herself, what the hell was I thinking? I shouldn't have left her alone. Stupid, stupid._ "No…no…no…" She kicked herself inwardly, her arms wrapping around her shaking frame.

"She's winded." One of the nurses said, placing an oxygen mask over Tempe's mouth and nose. She sucked in the air greedily, her chest expanding as oxygen moved around her lungs, filling every interstice of tissue. She calmed, her rigid body relaxing against the floor. She moaned when the doctor examined her arm, confirming her fears of a fractured ulna. After a thorough body assessment, Tempe was lifted onto the bed, a pillow drawn under her broken arm.

"Let's get her up to x-ray." Dr Hart said to the others, motioning them to put up the safety rails on the bed. They did as she instructed, exiting the room as swiftly as they had entered. When the door had shut behind them, Nurse Genevieve swooped down on a now weeping Angela, extending her arms out to her and embracing her in a comforting hug. She felt all the pressure build in her system, a result of constant worry; operations, infections, relapses, loss. Sobbing quietly against the nurse's shoulder, Angela felt the tremors curse through her body and finally stop altogether as unconcealed terror flooded through her veins, exhausting her.

"There, there," Genevieve soothed, "Just a scare. Tempe's fine now." Angela leant back on her haunches, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She looked down at her hands, wet with tears.

"I feel so over-dramatic." Angela sniffed, a blush clawing at her neck.

"Oh, nonsense!" Gen brushed her comment off, "I got me-self quite a shock too when I saw Dr Brennan crumpled on the floor like that." Angela let a sigh wash over her, grateful to have someone there with her, someone who understood.

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "She'll be alright though?"

Gen patted her knee in reassurance. "It wasn't a big fall, just enough height for her to fall on her arm and break it. I'm sure there's nothing else to worry about."

Angela closed her eyes in relief. "And going home? Will that still be possible today?"

Gen took a moment to consider her question. "Well I don't see why not, unless Dr Hart thinks otherwise. Her arm is nothing a cast can't fix." Angela looked solemnly at the packed bag sitting on the chair.

"Today of all days."

* * *

"Angela." Booth breathed upon seeing her leaning against the wall. "What's happening?" 

She looked away. "They're putting a cast on her arm." Booth looked over her drawn face, concern drawing his words together.

"Hey. What's wrong?" Angela shuffled her feet and crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

She shook her head, her voice a derelict whisper. "It's my fault." Booth placed his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed.

"Listen to me." He said, giving her a slight smile when she looked up. "You listening?"

Angela nodded her head, a dubious expression marking her pale face. "This is _not _your fault. It was an accident."

"I turned away for one second, Booth! One second! She just…just fell!"

"I know. And no one blame's you." He tried to convince her. "It was bad luck, Angela."

"And it keeps on coming." She replied bitterly. "Won't it ever stop?"

Booth had no answer for that. He could remember numerous times when that same thought had visited his own mind, again and again, relentlessly teasing the fear into him. "I hope so."

A full minute passed without either of them speaking.

"She'll want to see you." Angela said softly, her eyes gesturing to the room next to her, the door closed tightly.

"Yeah." Giving one last look over his shoulder, he pushed the door open.

Sitting up in bed, her gown pooling at her waist, Temperance's eyes were huge and round when she turned her head to look at him. "I broke my arm." She said to him in an almost disbelieving tone, surprise still etched on her features. The arm that was broken, the left one, was immobilised in the air, netting grasping at her sprawled fingers to hold it up. She looked as though she were waiting for someone to go up to her and high-five her. The soft cotton layer that would protect her skin from rubbing and irritation had already been wrapped around her arm and thin strips of white material we're just beginning to harden as the doctor layered it over the cotton.

Temperance smiled weakly at him when he seated himself next to her. "Does it hurt?" He asked, eyeing the bruise peeping out from the cotton.

"It hurts more than I would of thought it would." She answered, watching the nurse wrap the wet bandage around her arm.

"You've never broken any bones before?" He questioned, his tone amazed. "How ironic."

Temperance eyed her arm. "The cast is made of fibreglass, which is like a moldable plastic. It's cooler and lighter than the traditional white plaster, and you can choose different colors; purple, pink, black, red..." Her eyes sparkled in interest.

Booth looked confused. "But that's white." He pointed to her arm.

Tempe looked sheepish. "I've never had a broken arm before, and I've always wanted a white cast."

Booth felt his lips tug into a smile as she explained. "You may like it now, but wait till you get an itch."

Tempe frowned. "I'm sure it's all mind over matter." Booth snorted.

"You just wait, Bones."

"When will it come off?" Tempe asked the nurse, her mind playing tricks on her as she felt a little itch beneath the soft layers of cotton.

"Single fracture like this – about a month and a bit."

Booth smirked. "Scratch, scratch." He muttered under his breath.

"Stop it, Booth." Tempe scowled him. "You're making me itchy."

Booth looked appalled. "So I'm like nits now?" He said playfully.

Narrowing her eyes, Tempe said; "You know what I mean."

The nurse smiled, listening to their teasing banter. "The fibreglass is actually waterproof, but the padding underneath is not," she interrupted them, "So that means no swimming," She winked, "You'll need to put a plastic bag over it when you bathe, and when you go to sleep put a pillow underneath."

Temperance groaned half-heartily, "Another pillow."

* * *

"Where's Angela?" Temperance asked Booth as soon as he re-entered her room. 

Booth gave an imperceptible shrug, his tone as light as he could make it, "She had to run an errand."

Tempe pouted, disappointed. "Oh."

Booth hid the hiss of air that left his lungs. At times like these, he was glad Tempe could be as oblivious and socially unaware as ever; never picking up on his forced lie. He couldn't exactly tell her her best-friend had left because she had almost had a breakdown after her fall. He knew Tempe didn't blame a soul for what had happened, but Angela needed more convincing, and guilt weighed heavily on her conscious.

"She said she'd stop by the apartment tomorrow." He added, an attempt to cheer her up, and as her eyes locked on his, he could have sworn she'd seen right through his lie, but she said nothing and he said nothing more about it. She held an old gray Harvard sweatshirt in her hand, her face baffled as she tried to figure out how to put it on with her arm slung in a sling across her chest.

She moaned, throwing the shirt down in exasperation. "I can't leave in just a tank top; I'll freeze!" Booth scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Here." He said, shrugging out of his dark green jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders, gently threading her free arm through the arm hole and zipping it up the middle, his knuckles brushing her stomach briefly. She looked at him uncertainly, "You sure?" She unconsciously wiggled herself into his jacket, the warmth he'd left behind comfortable and cosy.

He smiled slowly, his face a mere inch from hers. "It will take more than a little cold wind to blow me down, Bones." He stood up and reached for her white sneakers. She shuffled on her butt, trying to stay balanced while she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She over-compensated on one side and she flung her hand out to clutch at Booth's shoulder to stop her from falling. "You want to break the other arm too?" He teased her as he eased her foot into the first shoe, pulling the tongue up and tying the laces.

"Sorry." She mumbled, her cheeks hot.

"Don't worry about it, Bones."

"Thanks." She said when he stood and she looked down at her shoe clad feet.

"C'mere." Booth said, looping his arm around her waist. He lifted her to her feet easily, and she grasped at his t-shirt while she swayed. "I don't trust you alone on that bed." He smirked playfully, directing her to a near-by seat.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

"And Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare move from that seat."

Temperance rolled her eyes. "I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid."

He grinned at her and left the room. Tempe sat quietly, unmoving as she had been told, her eyes roaming the furniture of the room. She was not sad to leave, but part of her ached at the knowledge of going home. She hated psychology, and thinking about her feelings left her feeling anxious and uncertain.

Booth returned a minute later, a wheelchair pushed out in front of him. As soon as Tempe laid eyes on it, Booth started talking, "No arguments, you are getting in this wheelchair. No way are you walking one metre, even if I have to carry you over my shoulder." He prepared himself for a fight, only to find her strangely obedient.

"Okay." Tempe agreed unquestionably. Booth stood to his full height, stumped.

"Did you just agree?"

"Yes."

He scrunched his eyebrows up. "Well…okay." He shot her a puzzled look as he rolled it towards her, nudging the lock down with his foot and making his way around to Temperance. She stood willingly and allowed him to wrap his arm around her waist again. "Why aren't you making more of a big deal about this?" He asked her suspiciously.

"Because I know my limitations." He gently lowered her down onto the seat of the wheelchair. His eyes took in her drooping lids and it dawned on him that today was more activity than she was used to, and whatever energy she had acquired from her nap had since been depleted.

He brushed some stray hairs off her forehead, "I'm sorry, Bones. We'll be home soon." She blinked at him and nodded, a yawn parting her soft lips.

He reached for her bag on the bed, placing it on her lap and releasing the locks on the wheels. "Here's hoping we don't see this room ever again."

* * *

_Betcha weren't expecting that, huh?! I know I said home time next chapter, but as I listened to Moonlight Sonata, the angst swept over me and I was powerless to stop it. Now with a broken arm, the hurdles are just getting higher and higher!_

_Just bought Superman on DVD, and boy oh boy, that Brandon Routh sure is dreamy. His chin was like whoa...everytime it came on the screen I felt like I had to wave at it or something._

_Okay, serious this time...next chapter: HOME TIME!!_


	14. Chapter 14

_**CHAPTER 14 REVISED:** If you've already read this chapter, no worries. No major plot changes._

* * *

_Hey everyone! Hope you had a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Cow's Ear! W00t, w00t. How fast did 2006 go, like whoa. What a quicky. _

This chapter is looooong. It would have been longer, if not for my friend's, "OMG that IS long!" comment, which kind of made me panic just a little bit. So basically, all the gore is in the next chapter. Do you wanna know what the "gore" is? Well, too bad. I'm not telling! (I'm saying this like it's some awesome secret...lololol.)

A few realizations I have recently discovered:

- You know TV is bad when: a) the best thing worth watching is "The Life of Birds" on Animal Planet, and b.) you find yourself enjoying it.

- You know you've outgrown Christmas when: a) your mom has to drag you out of bed to open presents, and b.) you've seen all the movies on the Disney channel.(What?!)

Thanks to both my betas!

Enjoy, lovely BB worshippers.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen – The Isthmus between Doors

The wind was sharp and horrendously cold when the doors slid back and opened the night to them. Hours beyond nightfall, the stars above were almost heroic in their fight to break through the heavy fog that lay thick and oppressive around them.

Booth heard his own footsteps hit the ground with a dull thud, while the wheelchair rolled soundlessly over the ground, the slightly undulating path from the hospital smooth and recently paved. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting; the vapor lights lining the large parking lot murky and thick with glass, challenging any light to dare penetrate it. He made a quick scan across the front row of cars, the black SUV neither close nor far.

Temperance shifted in the uncomfortable seat, her shoulders hunching when she inhaled. Booth readjusted his grip on the worn handles, noting how every breath seemed to suck the air straight from her lungs. The cold bit at his face and he felt his cheeks sting when the wind picked up and whipped about his skin.

"Jesus, it's cold out here." He mumbled, wishing his bare arms weren't so bare at all.

Temperance smirked and rolled her head back to look at him, "You should have worn a coat."

Booth narrowed his eyes playfully, "You just watch out, Bones. You may find yourself sans coat soon." He pulled the wheelchair to a stop in front of the passenger door and lifted the bag from her lap.

"It will take more than a little cold wind to blow me down…" Temperance mimicked his earlier comment while snuggling deeper into the warm coat.

Booth snorted. "That doesn't even sound like me." He put his hand under the concealed door handle and opened the back door, throwing the bag in gruffly.

"It's physically impossible for me to emulate your voice, so of course I don't sound like you. And be careful with my bag. If I had china in there it would be in a hundred pieces by now." She grumbled, clicking her tongue disapprovingly at the rumpled duffle bag on the backseat.

Booth rolled his eyes at her. "The bag is full of clothes, Bones. And why would you have china in there anyway? Been throwing tea parties without me again?"

Tempe frowned. "What party?"

"That was a _joke_, Bones."

"Oh."

"Yeah..." He said, a small smile tugging on his lips. He opened the door to the front passenger seat and turned to her. "Ready to ditch this place?"

"I know what that one means…" Tempe answered proudly, standing on her feet and then sitting down abruptly, her hands clenching into fists at her temples when a wave of dizziness swept over her. "Uh."

"It's okay, Bones. You'll get stronger soon." He said quickly, the look of self-pity and disgust contorting her beautiful face.

"It's all the little things, Booth." She said, angry and frustrated with herself. "I can't even walk without needing someone to help me."

Booth crouched down in front of her, "I understand-"

"Do you?" She snapped at him. "Do you really?"

Booth sighed. She was tired and fed up, he knew. "Bones-"

"Do you know what it's like to wake up in a hospital, not knowing why you're there? Or having your chest cut opened and your heart prodded at? Or how about getting out of bed only to fall and break your arm like some incompetent fool?" Her eyes were wild with anger, her jaw clenched so tightly he thought she'd break teeth.

Booth was undaunted by her sudden outburst. He'd been waiting for it, expecting it even. "No. I don't know what it's like." He answered her honestly, keeping his voice low and calm – if only to subdue and soothe the thunderstorms raging in her head. "But I understand why you feel like you do, Bones." She glared at him, "You can hate and be angry and hold onto the unfairness of it all you like, but-"

"But it won't change anything." She finished his sentence, her brows drawn together in irritation. "I know." She breathed, "I know."

"It will change _you_ if you let it, Temperance. And it won't be a good change."

"I want to change." She said defiantly, the edge to her voice betraying what little tolerance she had left.

"I won't let you." Booth answered, thick emotion swelling in his throat.

She shook her head and looked down, away from his eyes, a wall of loose hair falling over her face. Without thought, Booth swept the hair back and tucked it behind her ear. She looked up then, her eyes revealing the confusion and uncertainty her thoughts held. "Why are you doing this, Booth?" She asked desperately in a voice that was nothing more than a croaky whisper.

Booth flicked his eyes over her for a second and then pursed his lips and stood. "Give me your hand." He extended his own hand, his palms open and waiting for hers.

"Why?" She asked, completely baffled. He stood patiently, his hand still in the air.

"Take it."

She sighed impatiently, the anger that had pierced her seconds ago leaving her drained. She placed her free hand atop his, and he smiled down at her. She watched his fingers curl around hers and yelped in surprise when he tugged her to her feet, his grip tightening when she felt her knees give slightly. "Booth!?"

"I've gotcha, Bones." They stood there for a few seconds, Booth allowing Tempe to reacquaint herself with the new weight on her lower extremities. Her body was pressed snugly against his while Booth moved slowly, cautiously, the firm hold he had on her hand urging her onwards towards the door.

"Easy now, baby steps."

Realising what he was doing, Temperance panicked and squirmed under his hold. "I'm going to fall, Booth!" The beaten look adorning her face tugged painfully at his heart. She looked scared, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, and he mourned for the woman that used to be dauntless and recklessly independent.

Booth pulled her closer to his side, "No you're not. I'm right here. Don't stop moving." She took a deep breath, easing the tightly coiled rope of anxiety corroding at the lining of her stomach. She tentatively took another step, drawing confidence and reassurance from Booth's encouragement.

"That's it. We're almost there." He cheered softly in her ear when she managed another three steps almost on her own. "It's never as bad as you think, Temperance."

She turned her head at him briefly, the thoughtful expression on her face revealing she had reached some sort of conclusion. She squeezed his hand one last time before reaching out and putting her hand on the dashboard. Booth smiled. "That's my girl." He mumbled under his breath. Placing his hands on her hips, he gave her a small boost while she kicked off from the ground. She bit down on her lower lip, a look of wonderment on her face when she was seated.

Booth smiled at her. "You asked me why I'm doing this." Tempe cocked her head at him, remembering only now that the question had gone unanswered.

"Why?"

"We're partners." He stated simply.

"This goes beyond the call of partners, Booth."

"You and me – we're a team," he said, ignoring her comment. "We have to work together…as a team, as partners to solve cases, to work out solutions to problems that would otherwise go unsolved, questions that might remain answered. We work well together."

She eyed him warily. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"You thought you couldn't get up and walk to the car. But you did."

She looked at the small distance she had traveled. "But with your help…"

Booth nodded, getting to his point. "It took teamwork, Bones. This is something you can't figure out on your own. You need me. I'm your _partner_."

"Booth-"

"Think about it." He insisted softly.

Temperance gazed at him intently, silently thinking this over in her head. Booth shuffled on his feet, the cold and her incisive stare making him nervous.

"Bones?"

She looked at him a moment longer, indefinable emotions lurking behind her eyes. Finally she nodded and let out a stream of air. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She smiled slowly at him. "Yes. Okay."

"Okay." He said, returning her smile. "Okay."

He shut the door and jogged around to the other side, muffling the jingle of his keys in his clenched hands. He got in swiftly, shutting out the cold and the wind from the interior of the car. "Need some help?" He asked as casually as he could, watching as she struggled to pull down her seatbelt, the bulky cast continuously getting in the way.

Temperance bit her lip and tugged again at the seatbelt that was now jammed. She leant her head back against the headrest, her face taut with suppressed tension. "Please."

Booth leant over, taking the belt wordlessly from her and pulling it down in one fluid motion. She said nothing when he slipped the vertical part of the belt behind her head, tightening the one over her waist so she was still relatively safe.

"Thanks." She mumbled, a faint blush tinting her pale cheeks despite his obvious nonchalant manner. Booth thought it rather endearing.

He sensed her discomfort and turned his attention in reversing the car. "I was nine when I broke my arm." He reminisced, "Fell out of a tree." He wiggled his right arm slightly, indicating the one he had broken. "Hurt like hell."

"Why were you in a tree?"

"It's just what kids do. Missed a whole season of Baseball too."

"You must have been devastated." Tempe remarked dryly, unable to keep her eyes from straying to the ripped muscles of his arm. They bunched and tensed when he turned the wheel, contracting and defined in their shape. She averted her gaze quickly, chiding herself for checking out her partner. Her cheeks grew warmer at the thought of him catching her checking him out.

Booth grinned ruefully at her, oblivious to the thoughts that addled her brain. "As soon as the cast came off, I broke three fingers when my bike tipped sideways on my way to school."

Temperance yawned and felt heavy tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away. "It sounds like you were a problematic child."

He chuckled in memory. "Ahh, but I got to miss two days of school, so it was worth it."

"I liked school." She responded flatly. Tempe turned in her seat and pressed her forehead to the cool glass, watching everything pass in a blur.

"Of course you did." She didn't reply so he concentrated on driving, a little confused by her sudden mood change. When ten minutes had passed, he glanced sideways at her, noting how she stared almost forlornly at the passing scenery. This was the first excursion out of the hospital since she had been admitted a month or so ago. He wondered briefly if it was too soon for her.

The night was so black that the lights of the city did nothing to obstruct her reflection in the window pane and he caught her eyes as he watched her. She gave him a small smile, turning her gaze back to the streets, her expression sobering far too quickly in his opinion.

Booth's stomach growled loudly and he flushed in embarrassment when she turned to him with an amused smile. "Hungry?"

"Starving. How about some dinner?"

"I could eat." She replied absently, checking the time on the dash. Glowing red numbers revealed 7:39.

"Well, since it's your first night on the loose again, how about some takeaway? Thai?"

She shook her head. "We always have that, let's have something different."

"Mexican?" She nodded her approval.

Booth slowed the car at the corner and parked in front of El Torito's.

"I'll just be a minute." He said, stepping out of the SUV and making his way into the restaurant. Tempe sighed and leant her head against the window. He had left the car running, and the hot air that blew from the vents left her feeling drowsy and limp. She was lulled to sleep within minutes.

* * *

Booth emerged thirteen minutes later carrying two white bags in each hand. As he drew near, he saw Tempe slumped against her door, her eyes shut and her chest rising with each breath. He got in as silently as possible, smiling at her tenderly. Her mouth was open slightly, her forehead creasing when he shut the door. He held his breath and let it out when he saw that she remained asleep, the creases disappearing on her skin. He watched her a few more seconds, loving the way her thick lashes danced over skin as she dreamt. He finally pulled his growing fascination away from her and settled himself in for the short drive to her apartment. 

Booth shut the engine off and contemplated his next move. Tempe was still sleeping soundly at his side, and he was hesitant to wake her. Deciding that he'd take all the bags up first and then come back for her, he reached behind him and grabbed the bags littering the backseat. The smell of spices and peppers wafted up his nose when he pulled the bag containing the food close, and he inhaled deeply in appreciation. He shut the door, locked it and spared one last glance at Tempe before heading up to her apartment.

He jogged back to the SUV after dumping the bags, wanting to get Tempe settled quickly before their food got cold. He opened her door and stepped immediately closer so he would catch her slumped form. Her head landed softly against his chest and she let out a little sigh of warm breath that tickled his throat. "Bones?"

"Mmmm?"

"We're home." He leant his arm over and unbuckled her seatbelt, talking to her to draw her out of her sleepy stupor. "C'mon sleepy-head. Wake up." He felt her screw her face up against his neck and he smiled at her resistance. "Bones?"

"Nicht jetzt." She mumbled, swatting his hand when he placed it on her shoulder to turn her around.

Booth raised his eyebrows. "Was that German?"

"Hmmmm?" Her eyelids fluttered briefly before she dozed off again.

"It's going down like that then, huh?" He said to her as she snored softly against his shirt. "The things I do for you, Bones." He slid his arm beneath her thighs and scooped her off the seat and brought her to his body. She was as light as a feather, which didn't surprise him much, considering her recent weight loss, but the unexpected fragility of her frightened him more than anything. She looked so vulnerable when she was sleeping, and he was overwhelmed with the need to protect her.

Finding warmth in Booth's body, Tempe snuggled and curved herself more firmly into him, unaware of the intimacy of the action. Booth kicked the door shut with his foot, careful to keep his balance. He had parked reasonably close to the front door of the building, and the journey from his car wasn't long. Thankfully, no one lurked in the foyer and he reached the elevator without crossing another inhabitant.

As they ascended to the fifth floor, Booth became aware of Temperance stiffening in his arms. He looked down and saw her gazing up at him curiously. "Booth?" She lifted her head and peered around at the change in location.

"You refused to wake up." He explained sheepishly.

"I'm awake. I can stand." She put her hands on his chest and pushed gently, coaxing him to let go.

He looked uncertain for a moment. "Okay." He lowered her to her feet, keeping his arm around her waist for support.

Booth watched her as she swept her gaze around the small area. "What?"

"Where are the bags?"

"Took them up already."

"Oh…" She bit her lip, aiding in her pensive expression. "You know - I wasn't actually _sleeping…_"

Booth guffawed. "So were."

Tempe looked affronted at his unjust remark. "I was merely _resting_ my eyes…"

Booth grinned and said nothing.

"I was!"

"Oh, I believe you." He jeered. Temperance was about to answer when the doors slid open and Booth ushered her out. An older woman nodded at them when they passed in the hallway, and Tempe shook his arm from around her, hissing in his ear, "People are going to think we're together!"

Surprised, but undeterred, Booth quickly put his arm back around her waist and tugged her to walk beside him. "I don't have cooties you know. And we_ are_ together."

"I mean together _together._"

Booth slipped his hand into his back pocket and produced his set of keys. He turned his head, intending to make a wisecrack remark, only to find her face an inch away from his. He could feel her sweet breath hit his lips provocatively, and he strained against his instincts to lean forward and press his lips against hers. "Why does it matter what other people think?" He said finally.

"They might get the wrong idea."

"So what if they do?" He flicked his eyes down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. "Does it really matter?" She broke eye contact and opted to stare at the door.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"The door?"

He cleared his throat. "Right." He slipped the key in and turned, opening the door wide enough for both of them to enter. "Home sweet home."

"Home." Tempe said softly, looking around at the familiar surroundings. Everything was as she had last seen it…but somehow it was _different._ She took a deep breath, the smells of her apartment welcoming.

"Your bag is in your room."

"Thanks, Booth…hey, what's that?" she asked, pointing to a small device on the counter.

"A gift from Hodgins." Booth directed her to sit down on one of the bar stools. "It's a blood pressure monitor. It's gonna save us a few hospital trips."

Tempe's eyes widened when she saw the price tag still attached to the box. "Nine-hundred and fifty dollars is a _lot _for a gift."

"He wanted only the best for you. That's crazy billionaires for you." Booth said, sorting through the takeout and placing it in front of them. "I tried to tell him you were a cheap dat-"

"Hey!" Tempe punched his arm and he winched, rubbing at the sore spot.

"That's gonna bruise." He grumbled, though he was smiling.

"Baby."

"Your punches hurt."

She grinned sinisterly. "So do my kicks."

"I hope I never have to confirm that." He bit into his over-filled Taco, groaning when the flavours assaulted his taste buds. "S'good."

Swallowing a mouthful of her Burrito, Tempe stared at him seriously and asked, "Booth?"

"Mmmm?"

"What are cooties?"

Booth laughed and scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out a suitable definition. "I'll ask Parker when I phone him tomorrow."

Temperance raised a slender eyebrow. "Parker knows but you don't?"

"It's a kid thing."

They spent the next twenty minutes talking idly, taking their time with their dinner.

When they were done, Booth gathered the used takeaway boxes and threw them into the bin, wiping the counter as an after-thought.

"Booth?"

"Ya-huh?" He answered distractedly.

"I'm sorry about earlier…for you know, snapping at you-"

He froze then resumed his cleaning. "I know. It's okay."

Tempe fiddled with the cuff from the pressure monitor. "Sure?"

Booth turned and smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm sure." He watched her playing with the cuff. "You're supposed to measure your heart-rate when you're relaxed, so how about a movie before bed?"

Tempe shot him a quizzical look. "I don't have a TV, though…"

Booth grinned devilishly at her while he grabbed hold of her hand. "Come with me." Tempe eased off the stool with help from Booth and allowed him to direct her towards her living room.

"Ta-da!" He exclaimed when she saw the flat screen set up in the corner of the room.

Temperance gaped at the sheer quantity of it. "How did I miss _that _when I walked in?"

"God only knows." He mystified with her. "But you didn't really expect me to _read _all day, did you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Possible boredom is a powerful motivator." Booth said wisely.

Temperance wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Does too."

"Does not."

"Does-"

"Not this again."

"You started it." He teased.

"Did not."

"Did t-"

"BOOTH!"

Booth grinned widely at her and raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Alright."

"You're incorrigible."

"I try to be." Tempe smacked him in the stomach. "Ouch, Bones. You gotta stop doing that. I'm going to be black and blue by morning."

Tempe laughed at his choice of words.

"I didn't mean it like that…" Booth corrected himself with a wince.

Temperance sat down gingerly, gripping the armrest of the couch for support. "I'll let this one slide." She said graciously, though the smirk shone through.

Booth blew out a breath in relief. He didn't know if he would have survived that bout of teasing. "Anything in particular you want to watch?"

"I don't mind. You have more brain activity while you sleep than while you're watching TV, so-"

"Hey, Bones? Booth interrupted.

"Yes?"

"We do not speak ill of the TV…" He walked over to it and gave it an affectionate pat, "ever."

Tempe cocked her head at him. "You're joking, right?"

Booth shook his head fervently and mouth 'No.'

"Why aren't you talking?"

"It might hear us." He answered in a hushed whisper. Tempe rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at him. He dodged it and the pillow hit the expansive black screen.

He turned his gaze to her with wide eyes. "Oh, you've done it now."

* * *

They ended up watching The National Geographic channel, much to Booth's chagrin. He didn't mind too much though; if it made his partner happy, then he was willing to submit himself to educational programs. He could feel Tempe struggle with her ever-growing fatigue and he got up without a word. She tipped a little to the side when his weight left the couch, and through heavy lids, she watched him re-emerge from the kitchen. He handed her a glass of water and offered her the prescribed medication in his palm. "Before you fall asleep." 

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks." She took the water and gulped down the pills. Booth got up again, returning this time with the Electronic Blood Pressure Monitor. "Now?" She asked sleepily, the painkillers kicking in already.

"Get used to it, Bones. We have to do this three times a day." She was still cocooned within his green jacket, and seemingly too dazed to realise the need to take it off, Booth unzipped the jacket and helped her ease her arm out from it.

"How's your arm?" He asked, tapping her cast.

"Numb." She answered groggily.

Booth untangled the rubber tubes and strapped the cuff around her upper arm. He pressed a few buttons on the monitor and it instantly began inflating. Tempe let her head fall back against the couch, and Booth admired the exposed column of her throat. The cuff stopped inflating and began reading her pressure. "It's not hurting, is it?"

"No. Just uncomfortable."

The cuff deflated and she released a breath. "Did I pass?" She joked as he scanned the results on the screen.

"With flying colors." Booth smiled, removing the cuff from around her arm. He packed the device back into the box and settled it on the floor. "You okay?" He inquired worriedly, watching as she rubbed her stomach softly.

"Just a bit sore. Ate too much."

"You hardly ate a thing." He countered.

"Booth, I'm fine. Stop fussing." Booth sighed and leant back. Tempe instantly felt guilty. "Really, I'm fine." She insisted.

"Okay, Bones." He gave her a small smile and she relaxed. "Can I sign your cast?"

"Ah, sure. Go ahead." He smiled broadly at her and produced a black sharpie from his pocket. Tempe chuckled. "Have you been planning this?"

"So what if I have?" Booth replied, drawing a huge bone in the middle of her cast. Inside it, he wrote 'BONES' in block letters. "There!"

"_Very_ original." Tempe praised, snorting when he added a smiley face within the 'O'.

"I'm no where as close to Angela's talent, but I'm pretty high up there." He told her modestly, getting a small laugh out of her. He smiled back at her and they went back to watching the doco that was playing.

After ten minutes, Booth felt Tempe's head fall softly on his shoulder. He smiled down at her and brushed a few loose strands back off her forehead. Try as Tempe might to convince him otherwise, her stomach ache worried him. Trigger sensitive to her health, anything even remotely off caused slight alarm in his head. He watched her breathe, in and out, straining to hear any hint of a wheeze in her lungs. He scrutinized her for a long time, not sure if the greenish hue to her skin was real or something he was imagining. _Stop it, Seeley. She's fine._

He stood and scooped her up into his arms once again, safe in the knowledge that she was out for the night thanks to the pain meds. He carried her down the hall to her bedroom, lit only by the faint glow of the moon that crawled through the cracks in her sheer curtains. He lowered her gently onto the bed, fluffing two pillows on each side of her before pulling the covers up to her waist. He lifted her broken arm and nestled it on top of her left pillow, as the nurse had instructed him that afternoon.

Once he was sure she was comfortable, he leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, watching as she smiled faintly in her sleep. "Goodnight, Bones." He whispered, easing out of the room quietly, the door half-open. Just in case.

* * *

_Anyone else fifty pounds heavier after Christmas dinner? _

Quick, who do we blame!? (Points to Jesus) Yes you.

**Also: sfhslkhfkshfkhfksfh to LJ overrides. Yah cranky bumnut.**


	15. Chapter 15

_Hello, darlings. Did you miss me? No. Don't answer that. I'm fishing. Right. So...hi. I'm back, briefly, to throw another chapter at you. Originally it was longer, but my beta insisted I end it where I did, and continue on in chapter sixteen._

_Just, HI!_

_I would also like to thank everyone who's so bloody patient with my updates. Like srsly. And HAPPY EASTER. Does anyone else get the feeling that I only post on religious hoildays?_

_**WARNING:** Graphic descriptiveness within. I actually did my research on mumblemumble. An experience, I tell you._

_**And remember:** I'm not a doctor, nor do I have any medical experience! Pft, celebration if I pass this freakin' History assignment._

_**(HEY HEY YOU YOU I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND)**_

* * *

Chapter Fifteen – Point Of Origin

Temperance groaned softly in her sleep, her forehead damp with perspiration. The smooth lines of her face creased, bunched, tensed as she sat up abruptly; her eyes widening as the last pieces of sleep broke away into sharp planes of awareness.

Gasping desperately for air, she instinctively panicked; feeling the heavy pressure build in her chest. She brought her hand up to her throat, issuing a surprised cry that was drowned out by the calamitous presence rolling up from the pit of her stomach.

She knew what was about to happen, yet the first contraction caught her off guard; the pressure moving stealthily down from her chest to her abdomen; her diaphragm relaxing as her body prepared to emit the thunderstorm from within her. She gripped the bed sheets in her clenched fists, willing the nausea to subside. Her stomach muscles tightened, cramped with furious determination, and she released a small whimper.

"No." She murmured quietly, her lips barely moving, discouraging what would soon be the inevitable.

Stomach rippling with brutal tremors, she doubled over, her legs spreading and knees bending upwards, creating a small valley between them. She ducked her head, pressing her chin to her chest, repressing the fear that always came with this traumatic experience.

Her hands yanked tersely at the gathered covers, and she was again reminded of her vulnerability. She knew she had to get to the bathroom, and soon, but she felt idiotically paralysed. Her legs were like lead, pulling down with invisible force and keeping her securely tied to the bed. If she were to get up from this bed, she would stumble and fall, drunk with pain and weak from weeks of disuse. She cursed herself inwardly, afraid to move, but terrified to lay still.

She took a few deep, shuddering breaths; a futile attempt to withhold the contents of her stomach. She sat in relative darkness, the only light pooling in through the slip of her curtains. Heavy rain slashed at her windows, rattling the panes and adding to the desperate edge the air held.

She gasped and that was all the encouragement needed. Her abdominal muscles clenched angrily against her stomach, followed by a contraction pushing down hard on her diaphragm; the contents residing there propelling up through her oesophagus and out of her mouth in mere seconds. She choked and gagged noisily, already drained of much needed oxygen. The tears sprung unbidden to her eyes, rolling down endlessly to gather at the crevices of her mouth.

She felt desperately alone.

* * *

Booth rolled onto his side for the hundredth time that night, seeking a comfortable position that would allow sleep to follow without further trouble. 

He sighed, his mind and body frustrated and heavy with exhaustion. Sitting up, he scrubbed his hand over his face; his weary eyes taking in the glowing red numbers on his nightstand. He groaned. It was far too late, and far too early. He felt uneasy, though the cause for this eluded him. The guest bed was nothing short of luxurious comfort; the pillows stuffed with goose down and the sheets made of countless threads of the finest Egyptian cotton. Temperance knew how to treat a guest.

As a former sniper, he had been trained to sleep anywhere, anytime. Within moments of closing his eyes he would undoubtedly find sleep. But not unlike many other nights since Temperance's hospital admittance, he had found himself in an increasingly difficult battle with the sandman.

His body would allow no sleep, for his mind would not shut off. He worried constantly about the woman three doors down. He released a tremulous breath and leant back against the lush pillows. His door was ajar, allowing thin, attenuated slithers of moonlight to creep in through the crack and into his room. He closed his eyes, and willed his mind to turn off.

A quiet, but discernable sound perforated the stillness of his room, and he strained his ears to ascertain the noise's origin. Curiosity or a sixth sense told him to investigate. He leapt from his bed and crept to his door. He poked his head from behind the bedroom door, looking up and down the deserted area. He noted at once that the sounds were coming from down the hall, from the door that stood half open.

Silence.

Rustling.

Again, the noises. They were intermittent, and smothered in unmistakeable sobs.

_Temperance._

Raw panic sheathed him in a cold sweat as he flung his door open, hard enough to bang against the wall with a solid _thunk. _Heart hammering painfully in his chest, he raced down the darkened hallway, his feet slapping against the cool floorboards, stepping occasionally on a plank that harboured old creaks and complaints. His bare chest prickled with the chilled air, drawing tiny goose pimples from his skin.

He reached her door quickly, pushing it open and swiping his hand down the wall for the light switch. Finding it, he flicked it down and instantly the room was bathed in a soft glow. Booth never took his eyes off his partner as her head snapped up, her chest heaving and her eyes wide. "Booth." She croaked, blinking a few times to clear her vision.

"It's okay, Bones." He took the scene in in seconds, making his way to her with a few long strides of his legs. He ignored the sodden blankets, pulling them off her swiftly and sliding his arm around her waist to hoist her from the bed.

"…Don't feel well." Tempe whispered into his neck as she staggered to her feet with Booth's help. "Oh, God-"

Booth's eyes widened. "No. No. Hold it in." He beseeched urgently, readjusting his grip around her body and hurrying them both to the bathroom, a distinct feeling of panic fuelling his movements.

They reached the ensuite, and Booth swiped his hand down the wall again, searching the barren wall for the switch. He began feeling impatient, making wide circular motions on the wall, but finding it bare.

Tempe leaned heavily on him. "Clap, Booth."

Booth stopped his hand. "What?"

She pursed her lips tightly and looked at him with a pained expression. Her stomach was churning violently. "The…light."

Booth looked at her quizzically, and then put two and two together. He pulled her closer and she wrapped her other arm around his middle. He brought his hands together and clapped once, hard enough to sting, and at once the large bathroom was flooded with light.

He turned to her with raised eyebrows, but Temperance was already tugging him towards the toilet, and just in time, too. She fell halfway to her knees, her one good arm still wrapped around Booth.

"No, no. Stand up." Booth insisted, pulling her to her feet again. She groaned at him. "Keep your head lower than your hips." He directed gently, pushing her back down, until her face was hovering over the seat. "This is how you're supposed to stand. Protects your airways."

Tempe barely had time to take in his advice when she felt her stomach lurch. Booth tightened his arm around her stomach, feeling her abdominals contract beneath his fingers from the intense action. He gathered her hair with his other hand, pulling it back and away from her face.

Booth did everything right. He made the soothing, consoling noises that you'd feel embarrassed about later, but came so naturally in the moment. He rubbed his hand along her back, feeling the knobbly breaks in her vertebrae, pushing up through her skin and into his open palm. She stilled and drew in a deep breath.

"Booth?"

"I'm here." She straightened and stood, leaning back into his chest while he clutched her tightly to him. "Done?"

Tempe nodded. She felt impossibly tired. When Booth felt her sinking he lowered her to the ground so she could rest against the wall. He lathered her toothbrush in toothpaste and handed it down to her. She took it and awkwardly set about scrubbing her mouth with her unaccustomed right hand.

She forced a reassuring smile at him when he knelt beside her and dabbed her flushed cheeks with a damp towel. "I'm sowry." She said, her mouth full of minty bubbles. Booth looked at her sternly, eliciting a startled gasp when he gripped her shoulders fiercely.

"No."

She flinched at his tone. "Boo-"

"Don't be sorry. Not ever." He looked angry, serious, frightening. "Are you listening, Bones?" She nodded her head solemnly, dutifully. Her eyes felt heavy with tears, clouding her vision as she watched the expression on his face change, soften.

"None of this - none of it - is your fault." His voice hitched somewhere in the middle and she knew from now on that he was something she needed to worry over. "Tell me you understand." He looked at her expectantly.

_What was she supposed to say? Everything - It _was_ all her fault._

"Yes." Her throat was raw.

He released his grip on her, looking mortified at his disconcerted actions. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't…I know." She wanted to reach out to him. She didn't.

"Come here." He said eventually, pulling her to her feet. She rinsed her mouth out with cold water and nothing more was said, and when their eyes met in the mirror she looked away.

"My bed." Tempe looked hopelessly at the mess she'd made. She wanted to apologise again, but Booth lead her out of the room and directed her into his.

"Booth?" She asked with uncertainty, pressing her feet deeper into the thick carpet.

"Shhh." He pulled the duvet back and persuaded her to lie down.

"This is your bed."

"Not tonight." The bed was still warm. It smelt of him. Her head was foggy so she closed her eyes. He sat at the edge, adjusting the covers around her. She wiggled down deeper till only her nose was peeking out over the edge.

"Stay." She murmured.

Booth watched as her breathing evened out. "For a little while."

* * *

_**(NO WAY NO WAY THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE)**_

_Who wants to volunteer to do my four essays, two research assignments, and read three books for me? Just raise your hands nice and high so I can ditch the load and run. Quite far until you're done._


End file.
